


"You Promised!"

by Paperbackwriter22



Category: AC/DC (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Character Death, Family, Fanfiction, Friendship, Music, Orphanage, Realistic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-06-21 10:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15555561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paperbackwriter22/pseuds/Paperbackwriter22
Summary: "You lied..."





	1. Chapter One

I was five years old. Can you believe it? Five years old when that son of a bitch was gone. Left in the middle of the night. No one knows what time exactly, but early enough to happen and late enough to miss it. And where was I? Asleep! Asleep in my damn bed, at the damn orphanage, dreaming the damn night away.

I didn't mean to lash out at him, honest I didn't. Especially at that age and not even knowing what half the stuff I said meant. But when the one man who promises to take care of you and always be there for you is gone...

He taught me those words. Those words I didn't know the meaning of. The words I threw around carelessly hoping someone would hear them. And boy they did. He didn't mean to teach me, and he'd always scold me when I'd use one. But what the hell. This night was a special occasion. And he wasn't there to stop me.

That bastard. I love that bastard despite all the trouble I went through with him. In fact, I seemed to have more trouble after I met him than I did before. But it was worth it. He was worth it. Though he wasn't my real father, he sure acted like it more than my real one would. Well, I've never met my real one, but I wasn't put in an orphanage for no reason.  
God, I love that bastard.

I stayed in the orphanage till I was eighteen. Got a place of my own, got a job, made a living, all that peaches and fuzz. I stayed in touch with his friends-he called them his band mates or whatever. Real good guys. Though all real short I remember. That's probably why I never grew past four feet and eleven inches. I hung out with them too much. I loved them all, but none of them could ever love me as much as that man did.  
God, I love that bastard.


	2. Chapter Two

The clock struck three. The sun blazed outside. Children ran down the street for a game. The light in the room flickered.  
But she didn't care.

"Scotlynn Reynolds."

Two black braids swung back and forth as two black, ripped up shoes graced the concrete floor. The last chime of the clock sounded as she approached the desk, her right hand clutching her locket. The gunmetal chain was comforting even with nothing to be comforted about. It rolled over her fingers easily, and she swore it felt like fish scales; like the fish in the nursery downstairs. The locket itself was a slate heart; chipped and empty. She found it outside in the yard during a riveting game of War. Sgt. Eloise was just about to call an attack on the opposing forces when a glistening caught her regard. The locket lay in the grass; used yet untouched. Picking it up she noticed it was old, opening it she saw no picture. From the grass to her pocket and the game continued. Wearing it around her neck would arouse questions of obtainment, so she clenched it between her fingers whenever she could. Especially during those nasty English thunderstorms. Perhaps she clenched it now to feel the fish scales, the ones she wouldn't ever feel again.

There were no fish on her new floor.

A pile of papers was steadied in one hand while the other typed on the keyboard, eyes shifting from the screen to the girl with ease. From her tip toes Scotlynn could see over the desk where a chubby old woman sat. Her aging red hair was pulled up in a bun aside from a stray tendril and her glasses hung on a chain. A round nose stood against a round face just below two green and gentle eyes. The girl on her toes reached for the walnut nametag which said 'Miss Atkinson' in bold blue letters. Scotlynn didn't know that yet. The typing stopped. "Scotlynn Reynolds?" A pair of brown eyes gave the voice attention.

"I told you to call me Eloise."

"Your birth certificate says Scotlynn, dear. Have a seat, won't you?" The chair squeaked when she sat down, much like everything else in the building. Even Miss Atkinson squeaked when she ate too many pickles in mustard like at the annual summer picnic. Scotlynn giggled at the memory but quieted down when the woman looked her way. "Happy birthday, dear."

Scotlynn didn't answer.

"I said, happy birthday." The little girl sighed and swung her feet from the chair.

"Thanks I guess." The older woman's red lips smiled. A hand continued to type on the computer while the papers were set down. Picked back up, and set down again. There was an uncomfortable whirr in the first floor, one that Scotlynn couldn't find the source of. Normally she couldn't hear it but the near silence brought it out and drove her insane. A bee that just wouldn't go away or a whole swarm of locusts. Maybe a broken radiator. Whatever it was stirred an impatience in the girl and she shifted in the chair. It wobbled. Much like Miss Atkinson.

"Why the sad face? Aren't you excited?" the jolly woman asked. Scotlynn shrugged. "I should think you wanted to leave the nursery. After all the complaints of getting no sleep from the babies...changed your mind?"

"Where's my stuff gonna go?" The papers were picked up again.

"Oh don't worry, the assistant director will help move your belongings to your new room. They'll be safe with her I'm sure." Scotlynn wasn't. "Have any special plans for your birthday?"

"Moon."

"What was that, dear?"

"The moon." Miss Atkinson adjusted her glasses.

"Well what about it?"

"That's where I'm going." She squeezed the locket. "I'm going to the moon as Captain Eloise of New York and I'm gonna be the first to discover Moon Bugs." A skeptical nod emitted from the woman at the desk. "They're real, you know."

"That sounds exciting," she answered squinting at the monitor. "And uh, will you be taking anything with you?"

"Nothing that makes the rocket too heavy, or I'll never get there." Miss Atkinson laughed.

"Better not take me with you then, huh?" A few more laughs. Scotlynn couldn't help the smile. "I can't guarantee your ticket to outer space, but I can get you the next closest choice. The third floor." The smile dropped. "Your room is bigger, no babies to keep you up at night. Doesn't that sound like a good deal?" No answer. "Then in nine more years you can go higher to the fourth floor. Like a real life space mission."

The little girl in the wobbly squeaky chair wouldn't give her company the slightest attention for fear that she might continue and jarr her plans. The moon was a far better idea than the fourth floor.

The orphanage was built like a dice, one side the foundation. The first floor occupied the first set of windows. That's where kids were checked in and out, and where Miss Atkinson lived. The second floor was for newborns and toddlers. When a child turned four, they were moved to the third floor, and finally the fourth when they turned thirteen. On a child's eighteenth birthday, a celebration of sorts was held on the roof. It signified the child's long awaited freedom from the facility, and thus was held on the highest level. Scotlynn was convinced that the highest one could go to was the moon, and wanted no more than to celebrate her freedom there. To be the highest there ever was sounded like a much better deal.

"You'll even be going to school in a year. That's great!" Not to Scotlynn. She'd heard stories about the school. It was a separate part of the building, and was run by the head directors of the older children. Rumors were that it was held in the basement and that you were served chicken legs with the feathers and all still attached. It made her sick to think of it. Penny Keyson said she witnessed firsthand a student eat a chicken bone in her soup and choke to death. Scotlynn shivered. Choking was her worst fear.

Her grip on the locket tightened.

A voice called over her. "What?" she asked.

"What's that in your hand, dear?" Scotlynn looked down at the locket in her palm. The chain glittered from the light above her and she thought of shiny fish scales. "Come on, let's see it." Slowly her feet touched the floor and made their way to the desk and outstretched hand. The locket folded into the wrinkled palm and was observed over the glasses. "Where did you find this?"

"In the grass outside. It had been there a while, I think," Scotlynn answered. Miss Atkinson didn't answer. "It's empty." Still no answer. "It's empty," the girl tried again. The locket was returned to her a second later.

"I assume you didn't steal it then?" Scotlynn shook her head.

"No! I just found it, honest." The typing continued.

"Let's hope so. It's a pretty little thing, I could imagine one of the older girls losing it...did you ask anyone if it belonged to them?"

"Well, not exactly. But no one was asking about it so I kept it." Miss Atkinson nodded.

"Alright then."

"You'll let me keep it?"

"If holding onto it keeps you from fiddling with my nametag," the older woman smiled. Scotlynn clutched it with two hands this time. "Would you like room two or room seven?"

"Five."

"Room five is taken, Scotlynn. We have room two and seven open."

Scotlynn didn't answer.

"Room two or seven? Room seven has a bigger window, I think. And a closet. Does that sound good?" The little girl finally nodded. "Alright, room seven it is." A buzzing noise came from a square box with a slot through the top. A piece of paper popped out, like a weasel in a mulberry bush. "Here you go. There's your floor and room number so you won't forget. Your belongings should all be set up by tomorrow, I'll send them up first thing." The piece of paper was handed off to Scotlynn who made room in her left hand to grab it. "Good luck, and happy birthday."

 

The hallway was quiet as most of the children were outside playing in the last of the summer sunshine. It was September 14th, and school would be in a week. The chicken legs would be ready soon, feathers and all. She wondered where they kept them. One seven year old girl named Jimmie Bean-her real name was Jamie, but the other children always called her Jimmie as a misunderstanding of vowels-was walking in the hallway with a rubber band and a stamp to America in her hand. The locket Scotlynn held was hidden in her pocket for fear Jimmie might seek a trade. "You're new here," she stated bluntly. "You got a plane to catch or somethin'?" Scotlynn didn't laugh.

"It's my birthday."

"Oh, I see. So you live here now. I'm Jimmie." A dirty hand was held out to her, and she shook it hesitantly. "Sorry 'bout that, was jus' playin' tackle football with the girls. Got a bit out of hand you could say." 'The girls' was the name Jimmie gave to her batch of friends. A small batch, but more than Scotlynn had ever known. Jimmie shook her fuzzy brown hair out of her face and pretended to spit. "I've been practicin'. Soon 'nough I'll have a real wad."

"What's that?" A hand pointed to Jimmie's collectibles.

"This here's my newest addition. This is a genuine stamp from America. You know, north?" Scotlynn nodded. "I got 'em for a paperclip used to break the lock to the snack cabinet. What a steal!" Items like this were traded constantly among Jimmie and the girls. Even outsiders who had something of value once in a while. It was like a currency to them, and sometimes treasures were smuggled under the table at dinner time. They were called, 'dinner time finds'. "I'll bet you got nothin' like this in your pockets, no sir!"

Scotlynn walked past Jimmie in hopes of finding her room. "Wait a second!" She turned around. "What room you stayin' in?"

"Seven."

"Seven? Don't you know that one's haunted?" Scotlynn blanched.

"No it isn't."

"Is too. Want to know how I know?" Scotlynn stood still. "The last girl who lived there heard noises outside her window each night. One day she pulled back the curtain and poof! She was gone. Never seen again. That's how I know." Jimmie left without another word. Scotlynn stood there, pulling out her locket and gripped the heart, sliding the chain across her fingers. Like fish scales when the fish were swimming.

There were no fish on this floor.

 

When Scotlynn entered her room, she sneezed. This room hadn't been occupied in a long time and she was nervous it might be someone's ashes when they died that made her sneeze. If what Jimmie said was true, this room could very well be haunted. The walls were ghost white. A black lamp stood on a black table, the cord hanging limply at its side. The window was big as Miss Atkinson had said, and Scotlynn could see the school yard. Her bed was simply a frame and mattress now, but a few spare blankets were kept in the closet. Miss Atkinson was right about that too. It wasn't the moon, but sure had strange creatures like Jimmie to visit.

Scotlynn noticed the bookshelf in the corner next to the bed. It would be the perfect place to put her favorite book series, Eloise. A couple copies were kept in the nursery and she loved it when her teacher would read them to her. As a surprise on her third birthday, she was given her own set. Of course she couldn't read them yet, but she remembered every detail. That book collection was worth more than any dinner time find.

The girl opened the drawers of the dresser, hoping to find some form of currency she could use to gain acceptance from her new neighbors. A hairbrush handle, a shoelace, a pencil, a pack of gum-empty, a charred match, and empty cans of olives was all she found. They were handled with caution as bugs sometimes liked to make their homes in funny places. Nothing she found seemed good enough to trade with, and she supposed she could conjure up some tell tale story to make them seem better. But she got an idea even greater.

She poked the pencil through the bottom of two olive cans and pulled the shoelace through. They were small enough to hold them in place. One can was held to her ear while the other was brought to her lips. "Hello, this is Miss Atkinson. Lunch? Why we have a whole barn out back filled with chickens."

"This is Eloise of New York, how may I help you? The moon? I would love to go, but I have to be home in time for dinner."

Her fantasy was broken apart by a strange noise outside her bedroom. The cans clattered on the floor as she remembered what Jimmie had told her. Though it wasn't night yet, she wasn't taking any chances of letting herself disappear. Slowly she inched her way to the window with the blue curtain, and peered outside. There stood a man, about twenty yards away from the building. He leaned against a tree just outside the gate of the yard, holding something between his teeth. Scotlynn could see it was a cigarette. There were rules against smoking in the building, but she didn't know if the rules were the same outside.

His hair was wild and brown; almost a black. His face was hard to see from the distance, and the window was smeared with dirt. Opening it might gain his attention and Scotlynn didn't want to disappear. If he could make that happen. The yard was empty; the children had been called inside for dinner. Eating and trading would take place, and Scotlynn wasn't one to miss out on action. Placing the curtain back, she edged away from the window and headed to the mess hall to eat.


	3. Chapter Three

"Hide it, quick!" A couple pieces of rock candy collected from a discarded shoe outside was handed off in exchange for a yellowing postcard. These were the kinds of finds that needed to be secret. They were too good.

Scotlynn sat down in a chair much too big for her at the table much too small for the mess hall. Ladies of all looks came out of a kitchen single file, each carrying a pot or a pan. Food soon piled high onto the children's plates, food that would make any vagabond envious. Old Shana, the head cook, came right up to each child to receive a thank you. When she passed Scotlynn, the two were soon eye to eye.

"Well now, you must be new here. Are you livin' with us now?" Scotlynn could only nod. Old Shana smiled a smile fit for a jack-o-lantern; toothy and wide. "How 'bout that! What's your name then, sweetie?"

"Eloise."

"Eloise. What a name like Eloise. I used to have a niece named Eloise before a fever took her. 1955 it was. Yessir, I remember it like it was yesterday. Sweet little girl. Wore two blue ribbons I think it was. Or was it one? No, two blue ribbons for each pigtail. Or were they pink? Oh well, sweet thing. Anyways, say thank you."

"Thank you I guess."

Old Shana left the girls to eat their dinner. The clock struck four as forks of potatoes and gravy were lifted into the mouths of eager children. Jimmie Bean sat at the end of the table; one hand on a fork, the other on a new bottle cap. The smells coming from the kitchen behind them were enough to drown out even the talking and the room was held in a hushed murmur. Scotlynn shifted in her seat as the wood beneath her was bumpy. It matched the other chair, which matched the table, which matched the room and building. Lumpy and bumpy like the skin on a toad.

Scotlynn liked fish better. But there were no fish in the mess hall. Not alive ones anyway.

The door swung open by Miss Atkinson making her evening visit to the mess hall. The nursery never made the trip down here and therefore never saw her. Once today was enough for Scotlynn. The pudgy woman made her way around the table when Old Shana saw her. "Mabel! Hello again, we've all been waiting for you. Haven't we?" A generic nod swept through the room with a few verbal answers. Scotlynn didn't move. "Oh! We have a new girl here today! Her name is Eloise! There she is!" A wrinkled finger pointed in the girl's direction and Miss Atkinson moved her glasses to see.

"Oh, that's not Eloise. Her name is Scotlynn. She just visited me this afternoon, we've already met."

"I met you when I was brought here!" Scotlynn yelled over the growing noise, whether she remembered the day or not. The cook ignored her and came over.

"So the name's Scotlynn huh? How do you spell that?" The girl swallowed her gravy. Being the only child in the room who couldn't read as they were all already five and up, she naturally didn't want to make a fool of herself. As best as she could she sounded out the letters she learned last year.

"Sss-es, k-k-kay, awww-oh, llll-ell, iii-eye, nnn-enn." Miss Atkinson bit her lip, but gave the child an encouraging nod.

"She's only four Shana, she hasn't learned to read yet." The pudgy woman may as well as just slapped the girl in the face. Not being able to read was one weakness that children were able to laugh at. Trivial topics like driving or smoking meant nothing to them. But if you couldn't read...you should just eat chicken feathers for lunch.

Pairs of eyes all across the table arose to see Scotlynn shift in her chair. "I see then. That's quite alright, dear. My niece couldn't read till she was seven. Or was it eight? Oh well. Anyways, get to eatin' girls." Old Shana left the room while Miss Atkinson watched over her precious angels as she called them. To anyone else it looked like her smile was directed at them, but Scotlynn could see she wished she were at the table with gravy on her face. The fork was picked up gently, but clashed back on the plate as the girl on her left elbowed her.

"You can't read yet?" a blonde girl said. Scotlynn shook her head with a nasty look that dared her to make a comment. The blonde turned back to her meal. "I'm just learning. I can read Sesame Street and The Daily Mail." Scotlynn was impressed until the girl said, "Just the title though."

Not a word more was spoken between the two. And for that Scotlynn was grateful. First her hated real name was exposed to all within radius, and now she couldn't read. The girl wondered if she could sneak back to the nursery without getting caught just to spare herself from any further humiliation. More and more the idea seemed far fetched, and she dropped it; compromising for smacking anybody who'd give her a hard time. That'd show them. She didn't need to read.

The clock struck five and it was time for bed.

 

The ceiling made no sense to Scotlynn. She lay there on the bare mattress with only a blanket, staring skyward. Every night before this one, she would watch the ceiling for pictures within the plaster, and conjure up brilliant stories out of them. Stories that had no trouble putting her to sleep. But this night was different. No matter how hard she looked, she couldn't find a single one. And as a result she lay wide awake on her mattress.

A few stirs outside took her attention to her left, to the window with the blue curtain. Jimmie Bean's words came back and Scotlynn wished they wouldn't. She escaped disappearance once, but now there were no meals or recesses that would save her at this time. Figuring it wouldn't hurt to check to make sure he wasn't close enough to take her, she slipped off the mattress and to the window. The smudged glass paired too well with the black dark, and she couldn't see past her own nose. She could hear well beyond the gate however.

A streetlight shone on the grass near the tree by the gate. Two shoes walked underneath it casting a shadow to the west; the shadow of a person. Scotlynn couldn't tell if it was the same man she saw that afternoon, but his wild hair hinted the possibility. A hand was drawn to his mouth, then pulled back. He was out smoking again. A black jacket was draped over his shoulders and a scarf around his neck. It looked black too. Everything on him looked black from where she was.

He leaned against the tree with one foot crossed over the other. He seemed to be in thought. Scotlynn wondered if he was having trouble sleeping too. Perhaps smoking calmed his nerves in a way. If that's so, Scotlynn wanted to try them herself. Maybe he'd give her one...when no one was watching of course. Or he'd make her vanish if she got too close, and she didn't want to take that chance.

What would Eloise do?

The curtain was closed and the girl was swiftly returned to bed by a spindly woman behind her. A kind but firm face smiled back at her. "Now dear, it's past your curfew. Wouldn't want to miss out on sleep now, would we?" The thin smiling lips kissed her forehead and her tiny hands tucked her in.

Scotlynn said nothing as she left the room to check the others.

 

"Hut hut!" Grunts and thuds echoed across the yard from the pile of kids playing football. Feet flew, dust was kicked in eyes, and grass stained every article of clothing. Scotlynn watched from the bench by the sidewalk. It was short and a pale green, much like the children playing on the merry-go-round in front of her. But it gave her something to sit on rather than play a nasty sport, and that was much appreciated.

Scotlynn had never been outside this time of day before, and didn't quite know how to spend her time. She would have much rathered she stay inside, but her room was getting fixed up for her long stay until she moved floors again. She was almost forced outside by Mrs. Valerie, that spindly lady who rushed her to bed.

Scotlynn eventually did go to sleep, but not for long as the alarms went off shouting to wake up.

Jimmie had the football in her arms as she made her way down the field, almost meeting the ground more than once in a while. A couple of girls followed after, arms reaching out for a steal. When the feet of one collided with the feet of another, the whole group came crashing down in a cloud of dust and grass. Miss Atkinson, who was put in charge when Gertrude Grandall fell ill, came hobbling over to help them up, which only resulted in her falling on top of them. Scotlynn laughed so much she feared her side would burst. Eventually they all resumed their rightful stances and Scotlynn was bored again.

A stray piece of paper blew in the wind a few meters away, and stopped when it launched itself through a shrub. The girl's feet found their way over to it and it was soon clenched in her hands. Those hands folded the paper this way and that, something she taught herself. The piece of paper was turned into an airplane, one that Miss Earhart would be proud of.

Standing on the bench facing the gate, as the gate would create a barrier for the plane, she held it up and threw it against the wind. Little did she know that the wind was also against her.

The plane flew over the field, over the football players though they hardly noticed. A draft sent it upwards and it careened over the gate, tapping the metal as it crashed into the grass. The tip was bent, and the wing was torn from a stray wire of metal. Scotlynn ran over to retrieve it. Her arm snaked its way through an opening in the chains but her hand wasn't even close to her plane. Her struggling gained some attention from the other side and a man stepped out from behind the tree. The plane was picked up and handed to her through the chain. Scotlynn looked up at the man who she had seen out her window yesterday.

Twice.

"This yours?" he asked. His voice was like none that Scotlynn had ever heard. Even if he was the only man she had ever heard the voice of in her life. It was higher than she expected, and wasn't English at all. But something about its gentle tones encouraged her to take her plane.

Up close she could see his wild brown hair, his brown eyes, and every scuffle he'd survived on his face. The man stood up to return to his spot and his scarf almost blew off from the wind. That same leather jacket he wore the night before was still draped over his shoulders and he still had a cigarette between his fingers. Scotlynn couldn't help but watch the man with curious eyes. Once every few minutes he'd take a drag and a breath of smoke vanished in the wind a second later. His hair was curlier than she remembered, and his gait more exhausted than she expected.

Before she knew what was happening, the man had finished his cigarette and stomped it out with his foot before walking away. Scotlynn's voice called out to him, hoping to gain his attention. "Hey!"

It worked.

The man came back up to the gate and knelt down to Scotlynn, who was still on the grass. One hand gripped the chain while the other was crossed over his bent leg. "You need somethin'?" His expression held a slight frown, his hair in his face.

"What are you doing here?" Scotlynn asked bravely. The man shrugged.

"Dunno, usually jus' stop by for a break. Some fresh air." He glanced over her at the field and other children. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here."

"You live at school?" he asked with a slight smile.

"This isn't school," she answered. "It's an orphanage." Right away his smile dropped and so did his eyes. "We have a separate school here, I don't go there yet." The man cleared his throat and gave a sympathetic smile.

"An orphanage. Huh. Well I-I-I'm sorry to hear that." The man stood up to leave but Scotlynn pulled on his jacket.

"I just turned four yesterday."

"Oh! Happy birthday then." The man looked around the yard for a bit then looked down at the girl. "Who uh-who runs this place?" Scotlynn pointed at the pudgy woman behind her who was busy pushing the blonde at dinner on the swings.

"Miss Atkinson. She's a real funny lady." The man smiled.

"Oh, she tell any good jokes lately?" Scotlynn shook her head.

"No, not that kind of funny. I mean odd. You know, funny." The man nodded and looked over his shoulder. Scotlynn remembered the cigarettes he kept with him and brought out to this area. "Do you smoke a lot?" His hair brushed over his arm as he turned back around.

"What?"

"I saw you out my window yesterday and you were smoking by that tree. Why for?"

"Well it's been awful cold lately and it's only going to continue to get colder so I always warm myself up with one. Is this a restricted area or somethin'?"

"Not outside the gate." The man nodded. "So, you'll come back?" A glint shone in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Maybe. We're not staying here long, we've got work to do, then we'll be leaving for the rest of the world." A silence fell upon the two like the leaves from the tree. "I should really get goin', Miss Atkiny or whoever might not like me talkin' to you so well, I should probably go."

"Wait!"

"What?" he called back. Scotlynn was standing by now.

"What's your name?" The man stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Don't you got any friends you want to play with, any kids you hang out with?"

"Not really. I did in the nursery but I'm older now. These girls are all new." While Scotlynn held conversation with the man, Jimmie pulled herself off the ground and dusted herself off. One glance in her direction and she saw Scotlynn talking with someone she'd never seen before. A man nevertheless. Jimmie didn't like the looks of this man, and luckily he couldn't grab her through the gate. She watched from a distance to make sure.

"You wouldn't rather talk to them?"

"No, they'd rather play football." The man sighed and held out his hand for the girl.

"My name's Bon Scott, if you must know." Scotlynn shook his hand and gripped the chain links. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"You got a name, don't ya'?" Scotlynn debated with herself. She didn't want to tell him her real name, she hated it and wanted nothing to do with it. She also wasn't sure she could completely trust this man with any personal information about her. Any info like that was kept on the main floor with Miss Atkinson. "I told you mine, didn't I? Your turn." Scotlynn opened her mouth when a hand pulled her away from the gate.

She was dragged all the way to the shrubs then shoved down to the grass. A girl sat down next to her and put a hand over her mouth. "What in the sam hill are you doing? That man is a stranger, you can't talk to folks like him!" Scotlynn removed Jimmie's hand.

"He's not a stranger, his name is Bon Scott. I just met him today, and I was talking to him!"

"You told him your name too?"

"No! I was about to when you pulled me away!" Scotlynn huffed. Jimmie sighed and shook her head to move her hair from her face.

"I'm sure glad I did. Who knows what he was gonna do to ya'. I saw him reach at you through the gate, he coulda hurt ya'!" Scotlynn crossed her arms and turned away from Jimmie.

"He wasn't gonna hurt me! And I was shaking his hand, he didn't grab me!" Jimmie sat in a quiet hush as she watched her companion pout out her anger. A finger worked its way to her teeth and she picked out a piece of grass.

"Sorry, I didn't know. But you ought to be careful talkin' to men like that, no men work here and Penny Keyson said it's 'cause they like to pick on girls. Real little ones like us." The girl huffed at Jimmie. "Miss Atkinson wouldn't like you talkin' to him either."

"Well she didn't see me." She stood up from behind the bush and searched the gate by the tree. The man was gone. Three whistles blew and it was time to go inside.


	4. Chapter Four

The beat up paper plane lay to waste in the trash can. Scotlynn was at the window, on her knees, watching for the man, watching for Bon Scott. It was night, and her room had been furnished with all of her items from her previous bedroom, including her bedsheets and duvet. Her Eloise books were on her bookshelf and her radio was on the table with the lamp. Her phone made of olive cans was picked up and placed on the dresser, ready for the next use.

Her eyes scanned back and forth the yard for any sign of the man she met that afternoon. The man with the wild brown hair and strange yet gentle voice. He still didn't know her name, and Scotlynn was beginning to think it would stay that way. Cars drove down the lonesome street and dogs would bark from nearby neighborhoods at the stray cats that would wander the alleys. There was no sign of the man she met.

Her locket brushed over her fingers.

With a sigh the girl closed the curtain and slipped into bed. Better herself to get into bed than have a staff member get after her for staying up past curfew, she thought. The ceiling offered no pictures still, but sleep came easier than the night before.

 

Children screamed in a game of tag that had lasted twenty whole minutes so far. Little Rachel was 'it', and had her eyes set on Scotlynn as her target. Scotlynn ran as fast as she could and found herself behind the toy shed a good distance off. Rachel lost her sight on the girl and found another girl to tag instead and the game continued without issue. Scotlynn's breath was heavy, and her legs felt like iron rods.

As she caught her breath, she caught sight of something else by the tree on the other side of the gate. A man. Not a common man walking idly by, but a man who would stop and have a smoke, one foot crossed over the other. A man named Bon Scott.

With a racing heart, Scotlynn approached the man at the gate. "Hey." His cigarette was drawn away from his lips without an answer. "Hey!" Not even a glance behind his shoulder as assurance that he had at least heard her. The other girls engrossed in their game of tag must have kept her calls hidden. "Bon Scott!"

Finally he turned around.

His black leather jacket had been replaced with a brown one, and his scarf was left behind. His hair had been cut some; it was shorter at the ends and stayed above his shoulders, but still held its wild state. He squinted at the girl who called him, and sauntered over to her, crushing the burning cigarette between his fingers. "You again, huh?" he asked as she looked up at him. "Thought you might be eating lunch or somethin'."

"We just finished." Bon nodded. "You cut your hair," Scotlynn noted. A soft laugh emitted from the man and a hand reached up to feel it.

"You noticed. You've known me for a day and you still recognized me. You ran off yesterday, what happened?"

"One of the other girls didn't like me talking to you and she pulled me away," Scotlynn explained. "She says men like to pick on girls like us." Bon laughed a little, but still listened intently. "But she doesn't know you like I do."

"You don't know me any more than she does, you know talkin' with a stranger is a pretty bold thing to do." Scotlynn's face lifted. It dropped soon after. "It's also pretty stupid."

"I know more about you than she does," the girl argued. "I know your name." Bon shrugged.

"That's true. If you didn't you wouldn't have caught my attention." He tilted his head and gestured at her. "Say, I didn't catch your name yesterday, you got taken away too soon." Scotlynn bit her lip. She hadn't time to decide what name she would give him, but he'd find out soon enough what her real name was. "Someone else is gonna come along if you don't say nothin' again."

"Scotlynn," she mumbled. Bon leaned in closer. "Scotlynn," she repeated. A smile formed on the man's face.

"Scotlynn. That's an interesting name, I've never heard it before. Were you born in Scotland?"

"No, I don't know how I got this name. I was put here as a baby." Bon frowned a little. "All I know is that I hate it."

"Hate it?" She nodded. "Why do you hate it?"

"Jus' do."

"Well, I happen to really like that name. Sounds like Scotland. I was born there, you know."

"Really?" Bon nodded his head.

"I was. I moved to Australia when I was young. I live there now, but 'm stayin' here for a bit for work."

"Where do you work?" Scotlynn asked. She glanced over her shoulder for any Jimmie Beans willing to drag her away.

"I work all over the world. We travel a lot, it's a travelin' job."

"Who's we?" she asked again.

"Me an' my mates. We get along swell, most of the time," Bon snickered. "Though sometimes we'd rather throw each other out on the street."

"What do you do?"

"You know you ask a lot of questions, young lady," he answered smoothly, but kindly. His hand reached up to straighten his collar. "Now it's my turn. You got a last name to go with Scotlynn?"

"Reynolds."

"Really. You don't say. My real name is Ronald, to tell you the truth. I like Bon better, my own little nickname as it were. So Ronald Scott, and Scotlynn Reynolds," he mused pointing at each of them respectively. "What a pair then, huh?"

"Why do you like Bon better?" The man shrugged.

"Dunno. Jus' fits me better, I suppose. I mean, do I look like a Ronald to you?" He held a hand to his face and Scotlynn studied it. She supposed not. She supposed he looked more like a Bon anyway.

"Well I hate my name. I wish it was Eloise. Like the books. One day I'm gonna change my name, and no one will ever call me Scotlynn again." Her arms were crossed in a set-mind manner. Bon put his hands on his hips.

"Well kid, I happen to really like the name Scotlynn, reminds me of home. So you're not gonna hear an "Eloise" outta me!" He laughed as the girl gave him a big frown. "You're a funny kid, you know. You uh, make any friends yet?" Scotlynn shook her head.

"Not really. I was playing tag with 'em, but I saw you an' ran over here."

"Oh, so it's my fault you left the game then. Well, 'm sorry kid, I'll go so you can play with your friends again." Bon turned to leave and threw his cigarette to the ground. Scotlynn reached at him through the gate.

"Wait!" He stopped a moment.

"What?" he called.

"Come back, I wanted to see you again!"

"Sorry, I better go. I gotta lotta work comin' up, 'm late enough as it is!"

"You're comin' back, right?" He turned around again and gave her a smile before continuing on his way. Scotlynn took the answer upon herself as a yes. "Come back at dinner! I'll meet you out here!"

 

Dinnertime came much too slowly. It took forever for the table to be set, and even longer for the food to be ready. Scotlynn couldn't hurry the children in the line effectively enough. Her attempts caused a taller girl with glasses to turn around in anger. "Hey, shut up, girly! We're all goin' the same place, hold your horses!" Her outburst incited other's reactions.

"Shut your face, new kid! Can't get to the food fast enough?"

"Kid can't even read! Get to the back of the line, dummy! Dummies don't deserve first grabs!"

Scotlynn lowered her head at their snide remarks, but it hurt her nonetheless. She kept her mouth shut until the girl behind her with orange hair followed up. With an idea to really get under her skin, she made a grab for anything on the food table to launch at her. A dark liquid ran down Scotlynn's hair, and hit the floor in sharp spatters. A chocolate milk carton sat in the girl's hand and she laughed along with the witnesses. Scotlynn turned around with a glare to set fire.

Before she knew it, her hands were around the girl's neck, grabbing at whatever she could to teach her a lesson. A handful of the girl's hair found Scotlynn's hand she pulled with all her might. With a yell, the orange haired girl stumbled backwards, taking her attacker with her. Other girls went tumbling behind them, chairs clashed like dominoes, and chocolate milk followed them every step.

A whistle blew from an unidentified distance, but neither girl paid attention. The orange haired girl made a grab for Scotlynn's nose but the girl knocked it away and received a slap instead. Fights were rare at the orphanage, but they weren't unheard of. Instantly the girls were separated, Scotlynn by Miss Atkinson, Orange Hair by Old Shana. Old Shana's face held a worried glance at both girls, while Miss Atkinson's was one of surreal anger. "Shame on you two! I will not have this behavior tolerated at this facility, it is entirely unacceptable!" The chubby woman retained her hold on Scotlynn, in whom a fire still raged. Old Shana glanced at her captive.

"Oh, Mabel? This little one ain't holdin' so well, I think I'd better take her to Becky." Miss Atkinson took a look at the girl, whose name was Tabby. Her neck was bruised, lip cut open, and blood was just starting to run down her button nose. The head cook pulled up the corner of her apron and held it to her nose. Becky was the nurse, she'd surely have something in a black bag to give her.

"Oh you're right. Well, take her then, the other cooks can take your place. Uh, girls? Say thank you to Shana. She made your meal, and now she's helping out a fellow girl. She'd do the same to any of you. Say thank you." A choir of thank yous rang out against the glum atmosphere and Old Shana and Tabby were on their way to the nurse. Scotlynn's arm was grabbed roughly. "And as for you, young lady. I will deal with you, myself."

 

Scotlynn wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Her knees were pulled up to her chest as she sat on her bed, no dinner. This was her punishment. Miss Atkinson was not amused with her little stunt she pulled today, and this building wants nothing to do with children who act up like this. It wasn't a threat to kick her out if she messed up too many times, but rather a sour way to make her feel guilty about her actions. And boy, it worked. Through all the yelling, Scotlynn could make out her sentence: no dinner, sent to bed hours earlier than the others, and cleaning up the yard tomorrow while the other girls got to play.

Scotlynn didn't mind the second part, she never really liked playing with the other girls anyway, and it might give her a chance to see Bon again. But she could have done without the first part. Her head spun and her stomach ached from hunger. Her heart ached too, from guilt of missing meeting Bon at dinner like she told him she would. She wouldn't be allowed to leave the table, but at least she could have seen him once, let him know she was telling the truth. Maybe he didn't even show up. Why should a man like him follow the directions of a little four year old girl? She was stupid to even think he'd consider it. With all the work he had to do, anyway.

Scotlynn's heart was also filled with silent rage at the girls that had teased her that day. By hurrying them up a little, she caused a revolt, and they took their turns in bringing her down. One mentioned her illiteracy, and that almost set her off. But she held her tongue for fear of the very reason she was sent to bed in the first place. But she simply wouldn't allow that girl behind her to get away with such an act of provocation. Any reason they had acted so coldly to her was nothing she could figure out. The situation had escalated quicker than lightning could. Even English lightning. An Eloise adventure couldn't cheer Scotlynn up this time.

The chocolate milk had been cleared off her hair and clothes, and she was presented with a fresh set on her bed after a bath, compliments of Old Shana. Her radio played a song with a voice that sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it; the static was too strong. The song was about seasons, and wind instruments were played in the background. Scotlynn couldn't even hear the words, only the voice that sang out to her, that sang out for her. Without even checking her window, she rolled over in her bed and fell asleep.


	5. Chapter Five

Scotlynn considered running away. To leave and never come back. Pack her stuff and find her own place to live. She'd live with Bon in his house in Australia. She'd see his mates and his work, and would get to travel the world. Scotlynn thought maybe they'd send police dogs out to find her. Miss Atkinson would be so worried about her. Oh, she'd cry and cry, her glasses constantly being removed to make way for a tissue. She'd be sorry she'd ever yelled at her.

A smile crept its way on her face, a giggle to follow. Visions of Miss Atkinson hobbling down the street calling for her, looking in the most random places filled her mind. The rubbish bag she held clanked against a rock in the grass. Bottles spilled out the top, the rest of the bag full of wrappers, shoelaces, a soda can, and tissues. Kicking the rock for the inconvenience, Scotlynn clumsily grabbed the bottles, shoving them with the other garbage. A swift shove, accidental yet with no remorse, knocked her to the ground, a bottle crushed under two pairs of feet, and kicked away from the girl's reach. Without looking back, the two imps scampered off with their game, heading for the sandbox to dig for treasure.

Scotlynn was sore when she stood up. Dirt and grass clung to her knees, a scrape on her elbow. She palmed it and looked; no blood. Miss Atkinson was standing a good distance away, chatting with the town garbage man. Scotlynn had never seen him outside of his truck, he was ugly. Definitely not like Bon Scott, with his shaggy blonde hair and unkempt eyebrows. He was a lot better off in his truck, she thought. With Miss Atkinson busy conversing, it wasn't likely she'd listen to the girl's complaints, or even believe them. Leaving the issue alone, she scanned the ground for where her bottle flew off to.

The disfigured plastic lay in a crowded patch of grass by the gate. The rubbish bag skidded across the ground as she dragged it behind her. Before her hand could take it, the bottle was out of the grass and in someone else's hand. His hand.

It clinked against the chain links as his hands took turns guiding the bottle up. Once at his level he pulled it through and held it, inspecting it. "You sure drop a lot of things down here, don't ya'?" he asked with a wink.

Scotlynn stared up at the man, unable to answer. He didn't look mad with the grin on his face, or the relaxed manner in his posture. She stood there waiting, waiting for him to yell at her or even-as Jimmie had warned-take her away, and pick on her. Her mouth hung open, one hand clenching the rubbish bag, the other desperately searching for her locket. "I, I..."

"What's the bag for?" he asked nodding in its direction. The bottle was passed to each of his hands back and forth, with Scotlynn's eyes following.

"I, I have to clean up the playground," she mumbled unsure if Bon heard her. She jumped out of the way of a kickball driving its path through the ground behind her. The man behind the gate eyed the children playing in the yard, raising an eyebrow.

"Why don't they help ya'?" he asked. "Is it a one-man job?"

"I'm not a man!" Bon smiled at the rise in volume from the girl whose fists were now balled up.

"I jus' meant you're doin' it by yourself. Ya' know, everyone else gets to fu-play around while you work, how's that fair?" he inquired waving his hand. A small, black, buckled shoe toed the ground while the man waited patiently for an answer.

"I'm in trouble."

"Trouble?" Bon knelt to her level, the bottle set on the grass beside his shoe. "What'd you do? Talk back?"

"I beat someone up." Shock covered the man's face. Scotlynn thought maybe now he would yell at her, and something about that thought was unsettling; more so than the scolding she received from Miss Atkinson the night before.

Bon stayed still for a minute taking it in. "Holy moly, ya' beat someone to a pulp? How d'ya' like that, eh?" Scotlynn frowned and made a grab for the bottle in the grass. Bon's swift hand took it too soon. "Ah ah ah," he warned then laughed as he saw her disgruntled expression. The necklace in her pocket was left alone and she grabbed the rubbish bag with two hands. "So tell me, Scottie Dog, uh, what'd they do to make you punch them out, huh?"

The girl glanced over her shoulder. The numerous girls paid heed to their own little worlds and activities; the man at the gate wasn't there. She turned back to Bon, who juggled the bottle back and forth again, trying to balance it on his finger. His scarf was gone, but the black leather jacket was back. Scotlynn decided she liked that one the best. It matched his hair. She wished she had one like it. "I got milk poured on my head." Her voice had regressed to a mumble.

In an instant Bon was frowning, the bottle dropped to his feet. "Who did it?"

"I...I don't know her name, it happened at dinner time." Standing up with his hands in his pockets, Bon shook his head and picked the bottle up. Scotlynn made a grab for it.

"Jump for it," he smiled, holding it though the gate just out of her reach. Scotlynn left the bag behind her while she jumped, her fingers always inches short of the litter. The man laughed as he teased her, her aggravation growing. "Come on, grab it, grab it!"

"Give it!"

"Not until you tell me why I was left standin' here alone last night," he said, edging in closer. The jumping ceased and Scotlynn crossed her arms, kicking the gate. "Now now, don't come after me."

"I wasn't allowed to come see you."

"Ohhhh, uh, no going out after dark?"

"A little." Scotlynn stared at the bottle, resting on the chain link. "I got taken away when I got in trouble."

"Oh, so you couldn't, like, sneak out?" She shook her head. "Well then. If ya' can't sneak out, I might just sneak in!"

"You'll get in trouble too," the girl argued.

"I ain't afraid of Miss Applegate or whatever her name was. Now the cops...I'm sure they'd have a fun time takin' me to jail." Scotlynn laughed at the man, her giggling attracting the attention of a group of seven year olds. One of them being Jimmie Big Mouth Bean. "You're right," he laughed with her. "I would get in trouble."

"I'm sorry," she said, taking a black braid in her hands. Her braids were loose today; tiny fingers had put them together that morning. They looked a lot better in the nursery. Bon waved her off.

"Don't worry about it, kid, I ain't upset." Bon's eyes wandered away and landed on the group of girls standing a few yards off, whispering to each other. He made eye contact with one of them, one who turned back to her friends to spill some hushed secrets. He stepped back, sticking the bottle through the chain links. "Here, uh, I'd better get goin'."

Scotlynn accepted the bottle. "Why?"

"Uh, the guys are waitin' for me," he answered slowly. Scotlynn watched him head down the street.

"Wait!" The man glanced over his shoulder. "When can I see you again?" The distance muffled the girl's voice. He came back to the gate.

"What?"

"When can I see you again?" Bon knelt to her level.

"I don't know. Last time we made plans you put yourself in quite a pinch." The little girl kicked her foot against the gate. Bon searched the yard for the other children, or any adults whose quick glance in his direction might send a wisp of worry in their hearts and call for help. "I gotta get goin' kid-"

"Wait! What about tomorrow?" Bon gave a half smile.

"Can't, I have work." Scotlynn pouted. He laughed as she pulled away when he ruffled her hair through the gate. "Don't worry, I'll come around. But uh, you better be careful from now on, don't get yourself in any more trouble."

"You can't tell me what to do."

"I'm gonna anyway. Promise me you won't get in any more fights." Miss Atkinson blew her whistle. Hoards of children sprinted to the door, filing themselves to be let inside for lunch.

"Why?" Scotlynn asked.

"Because, it's not ladylike."

"I'm not a lady!" Bon was growing impatient.

"Look, it's just not right for a kid like you, they're messy. You don't want to live like that, always fightin', do ya'?"

"Do you fight?" Bon closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I can't talk anymore, kid, I've got to go, and so do you." His finger pointed to the building where girls were being checked for attendance before being allowed admittance. The line was growing shorter and shorter, more and more kids running down the hallways to the mess hall. Miss Atkinson scanned the yard for any insubordinate strays. Scotlynn took off for the line before she could get scolded, turning back one last time. Bon Scott was already gone.

 

No chocolate milk settled in Scotlynn's hair that afternoon. It was likely for Scotlynn's benefit as she had no means of getting into trouble. Not if it made Bon Scott mad at her. Gripping her tray of peas and pudding with both hands, she made her way through the swarm to find a certain girl. She was stared at, of course, but no one crossed her path for fear of a fate worse than Tabby's. Jimmie sat by her tray, picking the dirt from under her fingernails. Soon a second tray was beside hers and company to go along. "You again, huh?" Jimmie asked sticking her tongue out. She removed her ball cap and shook her hair. "Alright, what do you want?"

"Did you see me?" The chair underneath her wobbled, the same way Miss Atkinson would.

"Yeah, I see you," Jimmie answered chewing her nail. Scotlynn grimaced at the sight, suddenly not too excited about lunch. She shook her head.

"No, did you see me. In the yard." Jimmie's teeth chattered and crunched through her nails making Scotlynn perfectly sick. She inspected them after a fashion, checking for any chips or frays.

"Oh yeah, you were with that man again weren't ya'? I saw you loud an' clear. You're gonna get in big trouble if you're caught talkin' to him."

"Please don't tell anyone," the girl pleaded. Her plastic fork pushed the peas on her tray around.

"He could make you disappear, don't you know that ya' dummy?"

"No he won't! He's very nice and he won't ever hurt me, so don't tell anyone!"

"If he won't hurt ya', why shouldn't I tell anyone?"

"Because...because..." she stuttered. "B-because I said so." Jimmie frowned and crossed her arms.

"What if Miss Atkinson catches you? She'll go nuts if she sees him around."

"She won't see him, he's very good at hiding." Scotlynn had no clue if Bon could hide well or not. An apple was taken from Jimmie's tray, small teeth sinking in, and the resulting spray splashing all over Scotlynn's face. "Ew!"

"Oops," Jimmie laughed. "Shorry."

"You can't tell anyone," the girl said again as she wiped her face with her arm. The apple was treated mercilessly in Jimmie's mouth before she answered again.

"What's innit for me?"

"What-what do you want?" Tossing the rest of the apple behind her, Jimmie got to work on the pudding.

"I don't have any batteries in my collection," she said. The girl next to her continued to push her fork around.

"Neither do I."

"Well." Jimmie wiped her mouth and shrugged. "That's a shame, isn't it, huh? Hmm. I guess even you can't have too much luck findin' the good stuff around here...alright. Here's a deal." Pudding smeared itself across her cheeks, coating her teeth. Scotlynn's tray was pushed away, the fork placed upon the peas. "Whatever you can find me. An' I won't tell."

"Anything?"

"Anything you find me, an' I won't tell Miss A. you're seein' a man."

Scotlynn fiddled with the silver locket in her pocket. "Anything I can find." Jimmie nodded. "And you won't tell?"

"That's what I said, ain't it?" Sitting for a second in thought, gaze directed in front of her with no specific target, she released the locket from her grasp, the tray pulled back in her direction. Quickly the peas were forced in her mouth, Jimmie shrugging and grabbing her glass of juice to drink.

 

Scotlynn stood by the gate, eyes glued to the tree on the other side. The ground beneath it was littered with cigarettes, the street behind it swimming with cars. She hadn't seen Bon Scott all day, and the night before was just as lonesome. Once again the chain was fiddled and clenched in her fingertips. She thought maybe she could wear it now, as Miss Atkinson hadn't had it taken away from her. Fear that it should fall out also nagged at her heart and brain, as her adventures of Eloise had become more daring.

She thought perhaps he wasn't coming back. Maybe he grew tired of her, or decided his work was more important. She didn't blame him, only held a slight remorse that he shouldn't tell her. His words in fact, said the opposite. Why should he lie to her so? If he was telling the truth, why should he be so vague?

A cricket ball hit the gate a foot away from her head, scaring the wits out of her. She turned to see a brunette swinging a bat in her direction suddenly stop a yard away. "I'm sorry about that, I got a bit out of practice since the season ended."

Scotlynn stepped aside as the brunette picked up the ball and threw it back to her group. She was tall; a nine year old at the least. Freckles spotted her cheeks and nose, with a slight gap in her teeth allowing a lisp in her speech. Seeing the younger girl still disturbed by the ball nearly taking her head off, she reached out her hand. "I'm Maude."

Scotlynn stayed still. Maude lowered her hand. "We're playin' cricket over there. You wanna join us?" Without a word, Scotlynn stared up at her. The breeze blew through their hair while the sun shone silver behind the clouds making them squint. Slowly the young girl turned her head toward the tree. Still, no one was there. With the same speed she resumed looking at Maude, who had frowned slightly, and left without another word to continue their game. Scotlynn's gaze at the group lingered. Half the yard was taken up by their game, some playing, some watching. A redhead had hit the ball quite far, several players and spectators cheering. Scotlynn's black shoes with the buckles toed the grass beneath her, washing themselves in mud.


	6. Chapter Six

Climbing the stairs was like climbing a mountain, according to Scotlynn. There were a thousand on every flight, with three flights per floor. Weather beat against the roof outside, the windows crying along. Every once in a while it was muffled by the radiators whirring. Grabbing the rails with her tiny pink hands she climbed up the mountains. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked, but it didn't scare her. Nothing could scare Eloise when she was on a mission. 

 

Lifting a hand to her eyes squinting from the wind, she took notice of a piece of the mountain shredding away. Rock after rock tumbled her way, the girl barely jumping out of the way in time. After a bounty descended the earth, Eloise adjusted her harness, then continued pulling herself up. Aside from the tortuous wind pressing her face, it seemed the worst was over.

The top of the mountain was in sight. One last heave and she stood on the apex, gazing at the progress beneath her. The clouds darkened while the rain poured down. She slipped the backpack off her shoulders, carefully, and pulled out a small lantern. The task behind her was finished, but another one lay ahead. Her peer miles away requested a find; any find she could scavenge. Prepared for the challenge, Eloise made room in her backpack for the greatest prize she might see, leaving space only for the lantern.

With a slip here and there, she made her way through the dim trail, the light of her lantern swinging, cutting her shadow in half. She gripped her jacket around her shaking frame, and pressed on. Echoes bounced off the walls of Nature around her, faintly resembling the sound of children. The ground beneath her began to shake, but she had to go on. Lightning exploded in the sky scaring her out of her wits. More rocks than ever before broke from their hold on the mountain and crashed in one massive avalanche. The world shattered in every direction, turning into wallpaper and poor paint jobs. The lightning was a flickering light fixture, the wind from the broken radiator. The ground ceased to shake, yet the screaming echoes enhanced themselves. She glanced up to see three children racing down the hall, yelling and stomping the whole way. It was difficult to stop at the speed they were going.

 

Scotlynn jumped out of the way just in time. Two of them glanced over their shoulders, staring at her, before finally resuming attention to the race. The further down the hall Scotlynn walked, the more stares she received. A few whispers were heard as well. They hardly moved out of her way when she squeezed through a group of girls talking, their conversation silencing as she made her own path. On the other side there were doors lining the wall, each a number she had never counted to before. Never daring to search in any of those rooms, she found herself in the janitor's closet, hearing giggling behind her. Ignoring them, she began her exploration.

The mop bucket offered nothing save for a mop. The shelves only stored cleaners and rags, something she might get in trouble for if she brought them. She needed something small, something she could hide. A battery was preferable, but the chances of finding one of those in here were slim. Scotlynn knew the shelf was too high for her to see everything on it. There could have been a whole store of batteries up there she could grab. As long as no one saw her...the coast was clear. Bracing herself, she stepped on the lowest shelf and pulled herself up to the next one. Her foot kicked a broom behind her which crashed into some boxes full of extra cleaner. The bottles scattered all over the floor in a symphony of noise. The shelf wobbled forward a bit until Scotlynn shifted her weight pushing it against the wall again. Her mind capacity wasn't wide enough to think of checking the shelf to make sure it was bolted to the wall. Maybe she'd better climb down before she got hurt. Someone was bound to check on the noise anyway. Planting her feet on the ground, she let go of the shelf.

This was one mountain Eloise wouldn't climb.

Scotlynn was right about someone checking on the noise of the fallen cleaner. When she turned around, two older girls were staring back at her, opening the door wider for their snoopy eyes to see. "You can't be in here," the blonde one said right away. The other girl was also blonde, but much shorter in stature. Both had shirts with numbers on them, although different. Scotlynn wondered if maybe they were on a team. "You're not supposed to be in here," she repeated.

"Are you lost?" the shorter girl asked. Scotlynn was too scared to speak. Something about their ages seemed authoritative to her, like they had the ability to get her in a world of trouble. After all, they were teenagers.

Scotlynn wished she hadn't left her necklace in her room.

"I...I was looking for something," she mumbled. The taller one turned the light on.

"What were you looking for?" Scotlynn racked her brain for an answer. "Did you lose something in here?" She shook her head.

"Then why do you need in here? Do you need a mop?" Again she shook her head. Scotlynn backed up a bit, bringing her hands up to her chest. "Well...unless you need something to clean something up with, you can't be in here."

"Isn't there a closet on her floor?" the taller one asked her companion.

"I don't know, it's been years since I've been there."

"No," Scotlynn interjected. "We don't have one." It was silent as the three stood there, Scotlynn waiting for her removal.

"Well...what are you looking for?" The shorter one seemed in her own world as she looked around the room, the taller one staring daggers into her soul.

"Uh, I was, I was-"

"Now now girls, just skedaddle away from the janitor closet, there's nothing for you in there." Scotlynn's attention perked at the sound of a woman's voice. Her physical presence was hidden in the hall, but her voice was loud and commanding.

"But we weren't going in the closet, there was a girl in there-"

"Come on." The two teens had futilely tried to explain their current situation but were offered a different destination to hang around in. Scotlynn stayed statue still. She wasn't seen, or believed in by the old woman. Reaching a hand in the closet, she pulled the chain from the ceiling leaving the girl in complete dark. The door was closed as well, shutting out any possible visitors. Scotlynn waited a few minutes. Then with one foot in front of the other, she started her search for the light switch.

Buckets, bottles and boxes barricaded her way, as she stumbled and stepped on every obstacle imaginable in such a small space. Finding the chain on the ceiling was near impossible with her size. Faintly spotting a silver train of beaded plastic, she jumped. And jumped again. It was too far above her head. Opening the door would be risky, as she could hear plenty of voices outside.

The children in the nursery never talked this much. Scotlynn liked it better there.

Her feet crashed into everything a second time as she made her way to where the mop bucket was, and a third to get back to the light switch. The bucket was placed upside down under the chain. She must have been a whole foot taller standing on it. It was barely enough to firmly grasp it, but just enough to pinch it, and pull it down. The light popped on.

Aside from the mess she had made, there was nothing new to bestow on Jimmie Bean the next time she saw her. Venturing up to the third floor was a brave thing to do, but it had also proved to be rather stupid and pointless. She felt her shame magnify as she heard Bon Scott whisper in her ear these words of discourage. At the same time, she felt the fight within her swell. She would prove to him her journey had not been pointless, she would prove it to herself. Jimmie didn't care what she brought back, even the slightest tissue with the liquid gold, aromatic Clorox stain on it would suffice. Starting with the boxes in the back, she began to rummage.

There was absolutely nothing in there Scotlynn perceived worthy enough to barter with. Giving up was looking pleasant. Then when she turned her head at such an angle, she noticed a small shine on the shelf adjacent to her. It was crowded by dustpans and hand brooms, but it was there. Sneaking her way over, she clasped it. It wasn't as shiny up close, but definitely real. And most certainly something Jimmie Bean would be proud to add in her collection. Pocketing it, she pushed and kicked bottles out of the way, hoping it looked clean from the other side, and reached the door.

It was a scary thing when the door didn't open. It wasn't as if someone was blocking it, the knob just didn't turn. It was stuck, or in Scotlynn's case, locked. She had no idea the door locked from the inside. Pushing the handle down was no use, and neither was pulling it up. Her little muscles, even after strengthening another whole year, were still not strong enough. What she needed was a key. A key was also what she didn't have, nor could she get the attention of anyone outside the door. Knock after knock was simply ignored or unheard.

That didn't stop her from trying to break the door down.

 

After the second dinner that evening, Mrs. Vitello walked down the hall, a rag in one hand, a spray bottle in the other. The bottle was near empty while the rag was saturated with a child's idea of fun. Despite the rules about manners and etiquette, the table would be caked with macaroni at the end of every day. She was never upset; it gave her a job, so that she too could have macaroni on her table at home to clean up.

She reached the closet in a matter of minutes. Her keys were in her pocket, just in case the door should close locking her in. Seeing the door had been closed confused her. Clearly she remembered leaving it open ajar to air the tiny space out. It was a silly idea, but when the numerous cleaners co-mingled in one cramped spot, opening the door brought out a deadly aroma. Bracing herself, she opened the door. The smell wasn't too bad, but it was as dark as an inkwell inside. Pulling the chain did nothing, and the closet was still shrouded in darkness. The light from the hallway illuminated the room well enough to see outlines, but when the outlines and shadows ran forward it scared her senseless. Of no fault of her own, she failed to see any extra persons residing inside. Without stopping to chat, the being ran past her down the hall to the stairs.

Scotlynn was never going into one of those closets again.

 

Someone was getting adopted today. The whole morning kids buzzed in the hallways about the new visitors. Someone said they were tall. Some said there were three of them. One even said they brought a little dog along. Of course, no one had actually seen the visitors for themselves and couldn't really tell. The kids were ordered to go about their day like normal and pretend the strangers weren't there. It was difficult though. A line of snoops made their way to the first floor, sneaking a peak at the scene. The attempt proved fruitless as no one could see over Miss Atkinson's desk anyway.

One child had no trouble at all ignoring the coming of new people to the facility. Scotlynn lay in her bed all morning in a deep snooze. Getting stuck in a closet all day left her tired and hungry, but sleep overtook her before she could satiate her appetite. The kitchen had been closed for the night anyway. Her absence to breakfast had been marked along with dinner last night, and eventually Mrs. Valerie came to check on her.

"Rise and shine, time to get up, dear," she called as she welcomed herself inside the room. Scotlynn lay still. "Come on, let some sunshine inside." Her curtain was pulled open making a cloud of dust visible. "Whoo, should send the maid up here to clean your room. Alright, dear. You already missed your breakfast and you know how fast those older girls eat." The commotion filling the halls and the woman in her room finally woke Scotlynn up.

She wasn't happy.

Whether or not they were the adopted child, it was customary for the children to dress their best for the visitors. Itchy uniforms were the clothes they were given for these occasions and Scotlynn dreaded every second. Since Mrs. Valerie was in the room, she helped the girl put her hair in a silver ribbon. Scotlynn had to pinch herself to stay awake, her stomach roaring over the yells of the kids downstairs and outside the window. Dressed in a black and white sweater dress, the sleeves heating her skin from the sunlight, Mrs. Valerie hurried her out of her room and to the mess hall.

Not a single child did Scotlynn recognize. Miles taller than her, covered in acne and makeup. She huddled into Mrs. Valerie, nervous she'd be stepped on. Though the woman next to her didn't offer much protection herself. She was stared at by some, smiled at by others, ignored by most. Deciding not to have her eat lunch with a bunch of older kids, she was allowed a small snack from the kitchen and sent outside to eat where her age group was. Scotlynn took a scone and a carton of chocolate milk.

"Of all days to sleep in late," Miss Atkinson said upon seeing Scotlynn enter the yard. "You'll soil your uniform. Oh well, eat slowly. Uh, Betsy, don't eat the sand!" Miss Atkinson hurried as fast as her pudgy legs would carry her to stop the first graders from consuming dangerous minerals. Crumbs fell on Scotlynn's dress and powdered her lips. The chocolate milk was a lot better in her mouth than in her hair.

Bon wasn't standing by the gate. She didn't expect him to. After all, he had a lot of work to do with the guys. He wasn't very specific with it, and that drove the girl nuts. Curiosity about his life had somehow become a focus in the back of her mind. He never answered her question the other day either. She was afraid the answer would never come.

"Thank goodness you're here." Scotlynn turned her head to see Miss Atkinson, unsuccessful in her attempt with directing Betsy away from the sand, walk towards a woman with blonde, greying hair. "With the adoptions going on and the kids to watch, I need a second pair of eyes."

"Lucky I got better today," the woman answered. It was Gertrude Grandall, the usual play yard monitor. "Flu nearly blew me down but the wind was right for me." The women smiled. "Days like this get the kids all riled up."

"Sure do. I hope they found who they're looking for, it's best to get them in and out as soon as possible. Can't take how loud it gets sometimes." Miss Atkinson collected her paperwork and clipboards before heading inside. "We had one oversleep today," she sighed.

"Well, it'll be over soon, then maybe she can get back to sleep. You heading back in?"

"Yep, got to meet them inside, give them the form to fill out. I'll see you later, huh?"

"Sure will." Gertrude Grandall was alone now watching the girls outside. Though she was much smaller than Miss Atkinson, she was tougher. No one dared step in front of her. It didn't stop Betsy and friends from eating sand though.

A couple rounds of tag were started, another cricket game afterwards. Scotlynn was too tired to play. The scone and milk didn't replace all her energy and her itchy uniform bothered her too much. It wouldn't be an exciting game anyway, the players had to be extra careful not to get dirty. Where was the fun in that? Sitting on a bench with the rest of her breakfast, Scotlynn decided to watch instead.

She wished Bon were there to watch with her.


	7. Chapter Seven

"I'll miss you guys!"

"We'll miss you more!"

Someone was getting adopted today, Maude to be exact. Her luggage was strapped to the top of the station wagon, a carry on stuffed in the trunk. After careful evaluation of the children, Maude was chosen to go home with the visiting couple. Scotlynn didn't mind; they weren't the kind of parents she was looking for. Trouble was, she wasn't sure what she was looking for in the first place.

Maude and her friends hugged as if their lives depended on it on the front steps of the orphanage. The nine year olds were excited at the prospect of a new life for the girl, but it didn't stop a few minute tears from dripping down their cheeks. Such a sweet girl, was Maude. Two red ribbons tied to the ends of her braids. Dimples gracing her cheeks when she smiled, eyes as brown as the chocolate candies she shared with her friends at lunchtime. A dreadful laugh that one couldn't help join in with. Scotlynn stood a distance away, one hand clenching Miss Grandall's skirt, her lips covered in chocolate milk. The old woman had her hand on Scotlynn's head, lightly petting her hair as she waved goodbye to the nine year old. Finally the backdoor closed with the new family inside, and the car drove down the street, vanishing around the corner.

Scotlynn always wondered what was behind that corner. 

 

"I knew you'd get yourself sullied," Mrs. Valerie said. "But there wasn't much of a choice, was there? You really shouldn't stay up late, you have a bedtime. Bedtimes are there for a reason, so we're not tired when we wake up right?" The washcloth burned Scotlynn's skin as she was scrubbed head to toe in the washtub. Her uniform was spinning in the washing machine a few feet away while her ribbon lay on the dryer. After dribbling a few crumbs on herself, the chocolate milk had poured down her chin onto the fabric as well. Miss Atkinson was the first to see, and boy were her feathers ruffled. Before she could play in the toy room she had to clean herself up lest she spread the meal around. "Next time we're going to go to bed at eight, okay?"

"Where's Maude going?" Scotlynn asked.

"She's going to her new family's house. Isn't that exciting?" Scotlynn made circles in the water with her hand. "She has a new mum and dad now. Wouldn't that be nice?"

She scrunched up her face as a cup of water was sloshed over her head. She wished she could breathe underwater like a fish. Maybe fish didn't have to take baths.

There were no fish outside the nursery.

"That hurts," Scotlynn said as the washcloth scoured her skin. For a skinny woman Mrs. Valerie could certainly put some muscle in a task.

"Sorry, sweet pea, but you're covered in breakfast! I'll need a spatula to get this off you." Scotlynn didn't find the exaggeration funny. The washcloth was set down and a cup dipped into the water, drenching her hair. Her vision was blocked by a brown towel and her scalp roughly massaged. The same towel covered her up and pulled her out of the tub, the little girl shivering. "Get your clothes, then off to your room. Everyone's staying in their rooms while the maids clean the building. My goodness, this place is soaked! Mind your step!"

 

Footprints of water painted every stair. Miss Atkinson had one arm in her grasp, gently escorting the girl to her bedroom from the washroom. Doors were closing more and more the further down they walked, following orders at the latest possible second. Room seven's door was open a crack. Miss Atkinson pushed it. It squeaked. "Here's your room, dear. Give me your uniform, I'll hang it up." The fabric was taken into the woman's hands and she held it against an old wire stretching across the ceiling. Pulling a clothespin from her pocket she hung it, the weight sending it closer to the ground. A puddle of water formed underneath. "School can't come fast enough," the woman mumbled to herself. Pausing, she looked around Scotlynn's room. It hadn't been cleaned in a while. "Too bad the maids don't pick up after you, huh? Well, you can do it yourself, no use waitin' for a miracle. Oh! That's right, you won't be in school, will you?"

"No," Scotlynn agreed. "Did you know they serve you chicken feathers?"

"I guess you can spend that time cleaning your room up then?"

"For lunch," Scotlynn said.

"What was that dear?" Miss Atkinson brushed her red hair out of her face. It reminded Scotlynn of the gingersnaps they handed out at Christmas. Scotlynn fiddled with her towel.

"At school they feed you chickens with the feathers." With a soundless whistle through her lips, she smiled down at the girl. "For lunch."

"I don't know who told you that, but they're wrong. You hear me, dear? They do not feed you feathers. You would sure have one sorry stomach if they did!"

"But...but Jimmie says-"

"Now now, I don't want you bothering with any more tales, understand? Get dressed, then come down for dinner, the maids should be done by then. They should be," she muttered. Miss Atkinson hobbled over to the door, swinging it shut, her shoes signalling her presence every step of the way. No one dared to open their doors.

Scotlynn didn't bother to remove her towel and grab new clothes. It stayed on, and sat with her on the floor. Her tin can telephone had been knocked to a corner. She picked it up and the metal was cold. The string was beginning to fray, the knots on either end loosening. With care her small fingers reached inside the cans and tied them again. There weren't any numbers to press or dial, but she preferred not having any to remember. "Bon? Bon Scott? It's me, Eloise!" She pouted. "Scotlynn..." she mumbled a second later. "Where are you? Are you coming back? Meet me at the gate tomorrow morning!"

The play phone was hung up. Scotlynn picked up a book to read. She couldn't, and instead looked at the pictures. Maybe Bon could read them to her, maybe if she asked. Or maybe he'd laugh at her like all the other kids did. The book was set down and another picked up. A few pages had juice spilled on them. She imagined them having been lost artifacts instead, yellow from time. Books written by ancient Egyptians with strange hieroglyphics she couldn't understand. She found them in a tomb, given to her by the queen as a gift. Never would she let them fall into the wrong hands.

Her locket lay in the pocket of her uniform, the chain hanging out the side. 

 

Down the steps she walked to the hallway, where the door to the mess hall was. The number of supervision was tailored down, resulting in louder children, who only grew louder the closer the door approached. Inside the mess hall was a half circle of kids waiting to be served while the other half didn't exist; the children deciding sitting while they waited was a bore. Poor Old Shana stood helplessly on the side, attempting to corral the children before the food went flying into their mouths. Scotlynn avoided the chair tipped over by the entrance and walked in. All the work the maids accomplished was reversed.

Scotlynn searched the table for the little blonde girl who could read book titles. Sitting next to her wouldn't be such a thorn in her side, and perhaps the two could converse. About fish scales, or their latest adventures. Or perhaps Scotlynn could talk about Bon Scott, and the blonde girl would ask so many questions.

Maybe they could both see him that evening by the tree, and watch him smoke.

Laughter behind her caught her attention. None of their eyes met hers and Scotlynn ignored it. Any one of the tens of children in that room could have been the culprit. The little blonde girl was nowhere in sight, but the laughter continued down the circle of children like dominoes. She walked the length of the table, eventually reaching the half circle sprawled throughout the rest of the room. Two kids ran in front of her, the chaser holding a fork in her hand. More and more pairs of eyes looked at her, some with a laugh to go along with it. Her brow furrowed.

A full circle around the table and still no little blonde girl. Jimmie Bean also failed to show up, and the orange haired girl knew better than to catch the sight of Scotlynn. Finding a place to sit away from the chaos, she pulled her chair out.

"Do you see her? Look at her!"

The whispers wouldn't stop. Some were hardly hidden.

"Does she know?"

Scotlynn kept her head down, eyes glued to her plate. Some select few kids looked sorry for her, biting their lips. Others couldn't stop giggling and one even pointed a finger.

"Should I tell her?" Scotlynn heard someone ask. The voices were so stuck together now that she couldn't tell which direction any of them were coming from. Old Shana was still wrestling with the troublemakers in their own world of fun, none of them paying attention to anyone. The atmosphere was clouding the girl's mind, and her fingers instinctively reached into her pocket for her silver locket. Only, she didn't have her locket with her. She hadn't any pockets either. The towel was still wrapped over her shoulders, her uniform still hanging in her bedroom. Scotlynn felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Um, excuse me." She turned around to see a blonde girl with glasses, but not the blonde she was looking for. "My friends and I were wondering if you knew that you..."

No artist on the planet had ever painted with a shade redder than the one Scotlynn wore on her face. The laughter suddenly made sense. Nearly all the residents at the table had noticed. And let her find out the hard way.

Hot tears filled her eyes. The girl with the glasses was about eight, but had the biggest heart in the room. She helped Scotlynn out of her chair and led her out of the mess hall. Scotlynn hid her face behind the towel she brought up to her cheeks to catch the tears. No matter how many fell, it could never make enough wishes to get her out of a predicament like this.

Old Shana wiped her hands on her apron. "Hey, where are you two going?"

"I'm helping her back to her room," the girl explained.

"It's dinner time girls, we don't serve you in bed unless you've got a tragic illness." The girl stood in front of Scotlynn to hide her, Scotlynn shrinking behind her. "Now what are you doing that can't wait until after dinner?"

"She just needs a tissue," the girl said.

"What?"

"She just needs a tissue!" The noise in the room was still growing, some laughter replaced by a chattering audience. Scotlynn wiped her nose on her towel, wrapping the fabric closer around her suddenly much colder body. Old Shana was next to them in an instant.

"Oh my goodness, okay, I'll take her, dear. Go sit back down in your seat." Scotlynn was ushered away from the eight year old while the cook escorted her out of the room. The laughter had died down, but it seemed eternal in the girl's mind. Both cheeks were soaked when the corner of an apron wiped them. "It's okay, dear, you're not the first one here to make a mistake. They should know."

The chaos among the other half of the table hadn't stopped when Old Shana left the room. Seeing one less adult around them, the girls continued their game of tag, looking away from their path at the worst time. The one being chased ran right into Scotlynn, the girl hitting the floor harder than if she had her hands out in front of her. Luckily the towel hadn't fallen off, but her bare legs rose behind her, exposing the secret to those who hadn't known. The fork landed a foot away, avoiding cutting anyone.

That would have been the last thing on her mind.

Old Shana hurried to help Scotlynn off the floor, the girl drowning in the inferno of embarrassment. Her nose hurt, as well as both arms. The old woman held her towel together with one hand, the other on her back hurrying her along. The hallway to the stairs was much quieter. Scotlynn could hear only one pair of shoes. "You know my grandson used to make the same mistakes you did? One Thanksgiving he came down to dinner in nothing but his trousers! Been working in the yard all day and went upstairs to change his shirt. Or was it on Christmas?"

The girl didn't listen. She thought about Bon instead. Where the chain of the locket had been absent, she thought of Bon as a way to replace it. Hardly knowing where the idea stemmed from, she didn't object to it. He was nice to think about. He didn't poke fun at her to be mean.

Scotlynn didn't think so, at least.

The stairs had dried while Scotlynn waited for the maids to finish cleaning that afternoon. Her room was only a few doors down and Old Shana opened it for her. It was still a mess inside. Tissues from a box on the dresser were pushed into her face by the old woman, soaking up any tears trying to make a stain. "Where's your uniform?" Without any answer, Old Shana looked at the window where it was hanging from the ceiling. "Oh, so you're the one who made a mess at breakfast. Two accidents, that's not good." Opening the top dresser, a nightgown was pulled out and handed to the girl, the towel left to sit on the bed. When the article was pulled over her head she stood there, watching the cook gather the uniform and towel.

"Just be giving these a nice wash, okay? We'll have your dress dried for the next time for you. I'll have Maggie bring your food here today, if Mabel asks, just give her to me." Scotlynn nodded and sat on her bed pulling her knees to her chest. With a toothy grin, Old Shana left.

Never even asking for her thank you.


	8. Chapter Eight

The talk of the 'girl with a towel' diminished as Jimmie walked up the stairs with the rest of the kids. While Jimmie herself had not seen what had happened, she knew it couldn't have been good. How did that peabrain forget to get dressed for dinner? she thought. They were all hungry, but none of them had been so desperate that they didn't put clothes on. Jimmie shook her head at the ignorance the newcomer had, as she searched down the hall for room number seven. The door was closed tight, and Jimmie waited for the band of children to disperse from the hall before she knocked. When she did, there was no answer.

"Hey, kid, you in there?" Scotlynn heard her muffled voice behind the door, and covered herself with a blanket. An assortment of tissues used and clean surrounded her form on the bed, a couple having fallen to the floor. Her uniform had dried and was tucked away in her dresser, a corner sticking out from inside the drawer. Jimmie's knocks persisted despite being ignored, and finally she just opened the door. "Kid?"

"Go away," Scotlynn muttered from under the blanket. Jimmie stepped over the clutter of books and clothes on the ground to reach the bed.

"It's not that bad, I tell you if it were me I would have socked anyone laughing, yes sir," she told her tugging the blanket away. Scotlynn grabbed it back and wrapped it tightly around herself, only sticking a socked foot out to kick the other girl away. "I wasn't the one laughing, don't get after me!"

"Go. Away," she said again. The sound of children outside the open door made Scotlynn's skin crawl. Jimmie might as well have invited the whole facility into her room to laugh at her mistake. She felt the bed shift under Jimmie's weight as she let herself hop on, a cloud of dust from recess exhaling around them.

"I'm sure glad it wasn't me though," Jimmie continued. "I'm not dumb enough to make a mistake like that, I mean, we wear clothes every day! How do you forget?" Not considering to take her shoes off before sitting on the furniture, Jimmie scooted back on the bed and plopped her feet over Scotlynn's blanketed form, crossing one over the other. "I wouldn't mind goin' without, but Miss A. would blow her top if I did."

"GO AWAY!" Scotlynn yelled, shoving Jimmie's feet off of her. The blanket slipped off but she didn't grab it again. Jimmie, in surprise, nearly toppled off the bed and caught her hand at the last second on the bed post, twisting her wrist. She rubbed it with a frown in Scotlynn's direction, who had stood up to stare out the window. Jimmie craned her neck to see around her but still didn't see much. Something rolled on the floor from under her feet. Before Scotlynn could see it and think about swapping it with the treasure of another girl, Jimmie grabbed it so she could judge it herself. It was small, and fit into the palm of her hand. Cylindrical in shape, but only an inch high. A glass dome was on one end while the other was open, collecting dust inside. Jimmie frowned at it.

"What's this?"

Scotlynn saw that the bed no longer kept her find from the supply closet. Her annoyance and anger at her unwanted company suddenly subsided and she was at her side. "I found it," she answered.

"I can see that," Jimmie almost snapped, but calmed her voice the next second. "What is it?"

"I-I don't know-" Scotlynn watched Jimmie examine it in her hands. It was much smaller in Jimmie's hand than it had been in her own. It gleamed a dull gold from the light on the ceiling.

"It's not very pretty, is it?"

"I don't-" It was instantly handed back to Scotlynn, more so tossed back into her hands, her nearly dropping it. "It's for you..."

"Me?"

"You-you said you would-wouldn't tell Miss Atkinson-if I found you something..."

"That's it? Come on, surely you found me something better than a broken cereal box prize," she sneered. Scotlynn felt her face burn up and her eyes water. Jimmie walked over to the bookshelf and trailed her fingers over the spines, searching for anything of her interest. Scotlynn watched her, unsure of how to approach the situation. "Surely this room...haunted as it is has something."

"You-you promised!"

"I did no such thing!"

"You promised!"

"Look kid, I didn't promise anything. I only said if you found something-that doesn't mean a piece of broken...junk," she said, trying her best to ignore the large tears spilling out Scotlynn's eyes. "Now, that's not to say I'm gonna blab to Miss A. about Ink Blot or whatever it is you call him, but you know how she is about strange people, especially men." Scotlynn turned away from Jimmie, hiding her soaked face. "He could hurt one of the other kids, he could hurt me!"

"He-he wouldn't-wouldn't hurt anyone," Scotlynn hiccuped in desperation.

"We don't know that, you don't know that," Jimmie said. Her curiosity had taken her to the other side of the room to the dresser. No batteries. "If you're not gonna tell, I might-"Jimmie ducked as the item flew over her head, smashing into the wall surely leaving a dent. It hit the floor and rolled under the bed, back and forth, coming to a complete stop. For the first time in her life, Jimmie looked scared. Scared of a four year old. Scared of the strength she possessed. Scotlynn had taken to a corner of the room, grabbing the blanket from the floor and wrapping it tight around herself, crying, in a position Jimmie would label as, 'a fit'. Taking her hands away from the dresser drawers, she backed up making for the door. She could see out the window now, though there was nothing to behold. Miss Atkinson had to take another break from her work at the front desk to help Miss Grandall corral a rogue child, one who refused to come inside. Jimmie wanted to laugh but held it in. School was in a few days and the girls had, with their years, to go into town and shop for supplies. Needless to say, not all of them were eager, her being one of them.

But Bon Scott wasn't outside.

Jimmie picked up the item Scotlynn had found to give her and studied it. What she would do, or could do with it she had no clue, but-it was interesting to look at. It could have been anything, anything at all. Lots of kids had treasures that only had one simple purpose, but this could have many.

Looking back up at the four year old in the corner, she frowned. It wasn't the battery she wanted, but...maybe...

"Hey kid." Scotlynn turned her head to see a foot kicking her own. She pushed it away. "Ya' know, it makes me feel a little funny to see kids cry...usually I don't mind, but only on the football field. Sometimes I laugh." Scotlynn didn't feel any better. "This obviously isn't a battery," she started again.

"I couldn't find-find one."

"As much as I would have loved to have one, I-I did say it could be anything...an' you know," Jimmie said, taking a seat next to her, holding the item out. "This really ain't so bad." Scotlynn wiped her nose on the blanket, a good amount of teary snot coming out. Jimmie didn't mind, she'd seen worse. "Maybe...maybe it used to be part of a spyglass, or a fake eye...I dunno."

Scotlynn didn't answer, giving Jimmie a chance to really take in her size. A girl that small shouldn't have been able to throw so hard, or beat an older girl enough to draw blood. Maybe being on good terms with her would be a better plan.

"An', hey, ya' know, you'd do real good on the football, or cricket team."

With those words, Scotlynn watched as Jimmie held the object close to them, both of them inspecting it and coming up with all kinds of uses for it. Before they knew it, it was dinner time. Before she knew it, Scotlynn's tears had dried. 

 

The 21st arrived presently. The front of the orphanage had been packed with kids at six in the morning, all of them bundled in winter coats and noses buried in scarves. It was appreciated among the new students that the first day back should take place so late in the week, yet they dreaded the coming hours the same. The girls were separated into groups of twenty, ensuring they all got a seat on the buses that were to take them to the school down the road. It was an old private school that required everyone to wear uniforms. Most were not drawn to that idea, particularly the older ones. With every girl in her new uniform under a thick coat, holding a backpack filled with various supplies, they waited for the buses.

Scotlynn woke up to the thundering footsteps that morning. Having trouble returning to sleep, she decided to stay up, grabbing a coat and her locket with her. After being jostled enough times in the hallway she chose to stand behind the gate, watching the older girls. Several of them were nervous, this being their first day. Others were simply returning after a fine summer, and already knew arithmetic.

Miss Atkinson stood behind the gate too, making sure each of them got on the bus fine, and that none decided to play hooky. Her whistle was on the ready, in case someone made a run. Of course, Miss Atkinson herself wouldn't be the one to go after them, that job was left to security. Scotlynn's cold hand rested in Miss A.'s plump warm one, the other hand fiddling with the locket. Next year, it'd be her turn to go.

Maybe Bon could get her before then. Maybe he wouldn't make her go.

One by one a school bus pulled up along the curb, taking in the next group of twenty girls. It took some minutes to get everyone situated, by which then the bus before it had already left. No one ran, no one ditched. In a few hours they'd be back in time for a warm dinner and homework before drifting off to sleep.

Jimmie Bean was standing with her friends in her year, the seven year olds but Scotlynn never saw her over the heads of the much taller ones. A few girls were going to the high school and wore slightly altered versions of the standard uniform. Miss Atkinson eyed them with a sneer. "To think we paid for those," she mumbled to herself, seeing as someone had torn holes in the tights.

The autumn air was filled with cold silence as Miss Atkinson sighed, forcing a smile on her icy face. She checked her watch. It was now seven in the morning, right on time. "Well, another year starting off a success," she beamed looking back out into the street. "That is, assuming no one sets the chemistry lab into flames."

Scotlynn tried wrenching her hand free but Miss Atkinson had a firm grip. Her whistle was placed back in the pocket of her overcoat and she finally noticed the little girl next to her, pulling in the direction of the gate. "Oh! My dear, I forgot about you! Were you supposed to be on the bus?"

"I'm four," Scotlynn said, still tugging to go forward. Miss Atkinson nodded, as if just remembering the circumstances.

"That's right, forgive me, dear. Well. Looks like you'll have the place to yourself, won't you?" she smiled down at her. Scotlynn stopped tugging. "Of course, you'll probably want to stay inside today, go back to sleep."

"I'm not tired," she lied.

"Oh, well it's still going to be a cold one, I'm certainly not going to be dallying out here if I can help it." With that, Miss Atkinson had Scotlynn following her inside the building, Scotlynn turning her head around to get one last glimpse of the street. The buses turned the same corner as Maude's new parents did. The corner to freedom.

The warmth hit her face making her yawn but she hid it in her sleeve. Miss Atkinson didn't notice as she continued to lead Scotlynn past the front desk and up the stairs to her floor. In the halls Scotlynn could hear a few babies crying, the sound only louder had the door been open. Scotlynn's shoes trod the floor and the pudgy woman glanced at her with narrow eyes, annoyed at having to drag her. "Let's pick our feet up, dear."

"What am I gonna do?" Miss Atkinson searched up and down the hall for room seven.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone's gone."

"Oh yes, well, I suppose you'll be lonely, won't you?" Scotlynn pictured Bon coming to see her, without any kids getting in the way or telling on her. It felt far from lonely. "You could stay in the nursery, but after living there for years and just recently leaving, I assume you want a break?"

"Dunno..." she mumbled.

"What's that, dear?"

"I don't want to," she decided. Miss Atkinson stopped at room seven and opened it. It was still a mess, the floor covered in clothes tossed in search of something else to wear. She gazed at the floor and back at the little girl.

"You could clean this room for a start, that should keep you busy."

"When are they coming back?"

"Hmm? Oh, around three, dear. They'll be sent to their rooms to finish homework then called down to dinner accordingly. Not much difference in routine. Though, with the weather getting colder, our outside time will be greatly reduced."

Scotlynn thought about what the word 'reduced' meant. She had heard it before, but couldn't quite remember. The thought was pushed aside for a more important one. "Can I go outside?" Miss Atkinson stopped in her track down the hall and turned around.

"Just you?"

"Y-yeah."

"I think first you should go back to bed and get some more sleep," she said with a straight face, but not unkind. "Then maybe clear a path so you can get to your door and dresser, then if Miss Grandall isn't busy today, as she gets some time off, we can ask her to accompany you outside for a bit. Yes, I suppose children still need fresh air, even in autumn." With that, the pudgy woman was down the hall and descending the stairs, leaving Scotlynn to herself in her room. Forgetting about sleep, she moved all the mess on the floor under her bed and left the room, leaving the door open a crack. No one else was there to sneak in.

Making sure to keep quiet step behind the pudgy woman, she followed her down the stairs and stole away into the mess hall, to the kitchen. Miss Atkinson sat down behind her desk, taking great time to remove her tight overcoat and scarf. Once behind the doors to the mess hall, Scotlynn felt that pang of loneliness wash over her. Such a big room so empty made her shiver, despite the warm activity from the kitchen where Old Shana was washing up dishes from the early breakfast.

"I've never seen so many students," she said to her fellow cooks behind the door. "The biggest bunch we've had in years. It wouldn't surprise me if one of them disappeared an' we couldn't track the poor thing down." Scotlynn heard footsteps and dived under the table, hitting her head on a chair leg. The kitchen door opened and with it came Old Shana. "Come to think of it, my niece had a school bigger than the one we have an' there weren't nearly as many kids attending."

"Maybe it was flu season," a much younger voice said. Old Shana pursed her lips, then shook her head.

"No, that wasn't it...or was it the other way around?"

"Sad to see so many orphans," the voice said. Old Shana nodded.

"A damn shame, pardon my language." The old woman nearly had a heart attack as Scotlynn pushed a chair out of her way and came out from under the table. "Oh! Dear me, child. Where on earth did you come from?" Scotlynn didn't answer but looked at the table behind her. "Oh, never mind that. Did you just wake up?" Her eyes widened and she nearly dropped the bucket of dishes in her arms. "Oh my goodness-did you miss the bus this morning?"

Scotlynn shook her head and held out four fingers. Old Shana blinked.

"I don't know what you're saying."

"I'm four." A look of realization and what Scotlynn saw as relief dawned upon the old woman's face.

"Oh, yes, four years. You're not attending school yet, are you? You know my sister was just the same age as you. And she went on to school just like the other kids, all of them years and years older. Or...was it my brother?" Old Shana saw Scotlynn turn around in disinterest and gave a look of pity. "It's mighty early for you to be up so. Did you want a few more hours sleep?"

"I'm not tired," she lied again.

"Oh. Hungry, then?"

Scotlynn nodded.

"Well-can't say I blame ya'. With all the girls making such a racket the babies in the cribs all woke up an' cried for food. Not that you're a baby," she added before Scotlynn could frown. "All right, then. Ladies?" Scotlynn imagined a group of heads turn around behind the door in the kitchen. "Break out the pans again, we got a little one not goin' today." Someone Scotlynn had never seen before opened the door.

"She sick?"

"Too young. This here is Roxanne, she's only four."

"Scotlynn," said Scotlynn.

"Nice to meet you, Roxanne, you can sit anywhere, we'll bring your breakfast to you. Pancakes okay?"

"Those will be fine, Georgia," Old Shana answered for her. Scotlynn was picked up and placed on the same chair she hit her head on. "Now you just wait here for your pancakes, I've got to get these dishes cleaned up before the food dries. An' I don't normally make time for an extra meal for just anyone, ya' know. Say thank you."

"My name is Scotlynn," said Scotlynn. Old Shana tilted her head and pursed her lips. "Thank you," Scotlynn mumbled. The woman smiled.

"Georgia will be out in a minute, shouldn't be long." And with that, Scotlynn was left alone in the mess hall, the sound of pans and cupboards in the room next door. What she couldn't hear, she could smell. The room was also much tidier and prettier when there wasn't a hoard of girls eating a meal in it. Maybe Bon would like to see it. She wondered where he ate his food, that is to say, since he traveled all over the world, he doesn't eat in one place?

Scotlynn thought she could see the faintest hint of snow falling outside the window. Snow in September wasn't unheard of, especially in London, but Scotlynn would have preferred to be outside, even if breakfast was being made just for her at the same time. She imagined Bon standing by the tree outside the gate, smoking his cigarette. She laughed at the image of snow glittering in his hair. It'd take more than a few snowflakes to blanket that mop.

A plate was set in front her of, three pancakes with a square of butter on the top one presented. Georgia tucked a napkin around her collar, and began to unbutton her coat. "Here, let me take this, dear, you'll be more comfortable."

"I'm going outside after breakfast," Scotlynn told them quickly. It wasn't a full lie, but she wasn't sure if Miss Grandall would be able to accompany her. Scotlynn wished she wouldn't. That way, Bon could.

"By yourself? I don't think such a small thing like you should be going out alone, everyone here needs someone to watch over them."

"I have someone," she answered.

"Oh, is Miss Grandall staying here today?" The four year old kicked her feet back and forth and looked down at her plate, doubting she'd be able to finish the meal. "I thought for sure she'd visit her nephew out of town...Well, eat up, dear. You'll need energy if you're going out in such weather. I'll place your coat here and you can pick it up when your plate's empty." Scotlynn grabbed her fork and wolfed the pancakes down, quite sure she'd be able to finish now. Georgia lightly smiled and walked back into the kitchen.

Careful not to choke before she could see Bon again, she finished her meal and stood up to leave, her feet hitting the ground as she hopped off the chair. It was nice to breakfast in peace with no other girls making a mess of the place, or laughing at her honest mistake of forgetting to dress. Grabbing her coat, she was paused by a hand on her shoulder and a glass of milk set in her hands. "Drink this, it'll wash it down." Scotlynn stared at Old Shana standing above her as she drank. The cup was handed back without the usual thank you and the coat was grabbed once again, the girl running out of the room with a white mustache on her lip.

Miss Atkinson was still at her front desk when Scotlynn came in. A white phone was in her hand held to her ear, the other hand twirling a pencil above a notepad. Scotlynn made sure the door didn't slam behind her. "Yes, I see...no, I haven't seen anyone of the sort around here...I assure you, this is a safe and protected building, not to mention the home of many young girls." Scotlynn now crept behind the desk against the wall, out of sight of the pudgy woman. She slipped her coat around her shoulders, and stayed behind to button it, happening to hear the next words. "This is their home! You can't just send everybody away because of one person!" Miss Atkinson lowered her head and tapped the pencil tip to the paper. "I-I understand. But do we really need the police..." She sighed and wrote something down. "What was that number again?"

Scotlynn considered staying behind, to wait until Miss Atkinson had put the phone down to ask what was going on. Scotlynn couldn't understand who was being sent away, or what the driving force was, but it gave her an inky feeling in her heart. The chain in her pocket was gripped tighter than before, her fingers sliding the metal around. Fearing her opportunity would slip through like sand, she stole out the backdoor to the yard, not bothering to ask.

Miss Atkinson would tell her not to worry anyway.

Snow had indeed been falling as Scotlynn ate breakfast. The grass wasn't green anymore, and instead was coated with a white layer of powder, still accumulating. Her black buckled shoes left the tiniest of prints leading up to the gate, where the tree stood without any sign of company. No footprints, no rings of smoke.

No Bon.

She considered waiting for him. After all, something about him told her that he didn't wake up with the crows. Getting caught and rushed back inside became a greater risk, but she didn't care. There was only one of her, and none of the adults seemed too vigilant today.

A car drove by. The street had now been covered with flakes, most of them flattened by tires. A man walked down the sidewalk across the street to a diner, but this man had blond hair, and was much too tall. Someone with fluffy brown hair also appeared, but this was a woman. Scotlynn was sure Bon wasn't one of those.

Leaving the gate she walked the length and pulled the locket chain from her pocket. It was just as empty as the day she got it. The day she found it, rather. She had still refrained from asking anyone whether it belonged to them. Certainly they didn't miss it, or they would have asked. And since it was empty...

She considered asking Bon. Maybe it was his, or from someone he knew. She began to think about his family. She wondered if he was married. If he had kids of his own, he might not want another one, one that wasn't his. One who picked up dirty lockets from the ground and came to the dinner table starkers. One who wasn't wanted in the first place and was left at an orphanage that was soon to be out of business, according to Miss Atkinson and the phone. Perhaps then, he'd have to take her.

Her foot slipped on a patch of snow that was wetter than the rest and fell on the white grass. Her pants were soaked, and her black coat had a trail of fresh mud. The locket flew from her hand landing in some spare mud, the silver stained with brown. It felt gross to pick it up again, but she couldn't lose it. Not if she were to inquire Bon about it.

When she stood up to brush some mud from her hands back where it belonged, she saw someone else outside the gate. Two people, from the look. They both had unruly hair, one standing much shorter than the other. Despite their voices still too far to recognize, Scotlynn could hear them laughing, a few words, then another laugh. The man she hadn't seen before also had a cigarette, and had stamped it out with his boot, much like his companion. Only he pulled out a small box from his pocket and lit another one.

Her heart beat slightly faster as she waited for them to walk closer. If this was in fact the man whose company she had so long been since craving, the first thing she would do was ask about the locket in her hand. Maybe it belonged to his friend, or his girlfriend if he had one. Their voices were louder, Scotlynn could begin to make out the taller man's face, that same nose, those same eyes. He didn't see her, but he was close enough to hear. "Bon?" she called from behind the gate. "Bon! B-"

"You're covered in muck!" a woman cried, stealing the child from the ground and carrying her to the building. "My goodness child, I came out to beat the dust off the rug and I find you-out here by yourself, and in this weather! " Scotlynn was held tighter after struggling in Mrs. Vitello's hold. "I'll call the school and let them know you're a bit late."

"I'm four!" Scotlynn screamed, hoping Bon would hear and come to her rescue. He did no such thing.

"Four?" Mrs. Vitello repeated. "Oh, stop squirming! Four or not, you should never be outside the building without an adult. We're cracking down on that rule rather hard this year. All month we've been receiving complaints of some trouble makers lurking about and we don't want our girls in any more trouble than they place themselves."

Scotlynn stopped squirming. Miss Atkinson must have been talking about this when she sneaked outside. Curious about the situation, and hopeful that this adult wouldn't turn her down, Scotlynn dared to ask.

"What's he doing?"

"Oh-we're not yet sure at the moment," Mrs. Vitello said. "We're not sure he's even a man, to be honest. Could be anyone. A teenager. One of our own. But witnesses say they've seen suspicious behavior in front, behind, and around our orphanage and some very important people are calling us...telling us they don't like what they're hearing. What we're all hearing." Scotlynn was set down on the floor of the building and the door was closed behind them. Mrs. Vitello removed her gloves and coat, hanging them up in her private closet given to her the first day of the job. Scotlynn left her attire on. "They don't want you girls in danger and ending up on the news. We explain that we don't want that either, and that we do our best to keep you all-" The woman sighed and put a hand to the girl's shoulder, lightly pushing her down the hall. "Sometimes they refuse to listen, especially when it's a man arguing with one of us. Really grinds my teeth."

"Do we have to leave?"

"Leave? Heavens no, this is your home! Where else would you go?" There were those same words Miss Atkinson used earlier on the phone. If those words were used by more than one member of this establishment, they were most likely important, and true. Though Scotlynn could think of one other place she wouldn't mind going to, even if just to visit.

Besides the moon, of course.

"Scotlynn? Where did you come from?"

"Found her outside, Mabel. Alone, and you know what kind of bullets they're wounding us with about that," Mrs. Vitello said.

"Oh yes, thank you, Maria. I'll take her from here."

Mrs. Vitello left the two alone, and Miss Atkinson set her phone down running her hands through her hair, her elbows on her desk. Scotlynn reached up and grabbed the walnut name tag, tracing her fingers on the blue lettering she had yet to understand. The pudgy woman smiled despite her recent activities. "Miss Grandall is leaving town, Scotlynn," she said. The four year old seemed not to hear. "You're not allowed to go outside without her. You know that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's against the rules."

"Why?"

"Always has been."

"She said it's gotten worse." Scotlynn pointed down the hall where Mrs. Vitello had retreated to. Miss Atkinson nodded, her red hair swinging loosely over her shoulders.

"Can't say that isn't true. But it's nothing you need to worry your little head over. Come here, you can help me file these records in alphabetical order."

"I can't read."

"Oh yes, that's right. Maybe you should have gone to school today with the rest. Oh well, go on back to your room and change your clothes, you're a mess. I'll send up for some new ones, okay, dear?" But Scotlynn was already gone.


	9. Chapter Nine

Dinner was much louder than breakfast that morning. Food was thrown from spoon to wall, landing on shirts, in hair, and even unsuspecting laughing mouths. Scotlynn wasn't as amused as some of the other girls. 

Jimmie was lost in the crowd, probably shoveling mashed potatoes down her gob, anxious to get the taste of chicken feathers out of her mouth. With the lack of attention Scotlynn had been receiving since the children came back assured her that Jimmie hadn't told anyone about Bon. Her secret friend was safe. 

The man Miss Atkinson had been talking about had frightened Scotlynn, and some of the other girls who whispered about it as they walked to the table. Though Scotlynn had never seen the man in question, even when she was alone outside, she was certain she never wanted to meet anyone that threatened the loss of her only home. Unless, Bon would be there to take her. Maybe he would look after her.

Her food was hardly touched as she thought of all the ways she could see him again. That had to have been him walking with the other man, and she was so close to getting his attention. If only she hadn't been caught, by the caretaker of all people. Maybe she could sneak out at night...but surely Bon would be home by then and she had no idea where to go. Maybe she could ask someone to find him...but Miss Atkinson would never allow him near them, not with a strange and potentially dangerous man on the loose.If Scotlynn had caught a glimpse of Bon's companion, she could watch out for him too, and get him to bring Bon back. 

To bring her friend back. 

A bread roll hit Scotlynn on the back of her head, the image of Bon turning to one of a little girl, glaring at her. Scotlynn recognized the orange hair, and under the narrowed eyes was a small nose wrapped in white bandages. A bread roll was already on her plate, having been served to her mere minutes ago, the one hitting her a complete fluke. Scotlynn turned her head away and took extra small bites, her appetite also lacking in size. 

 

Friday was the most hectic day of the week, and only the second day of the school year. Kids were fighting about where to sit on the bus and Miss Atkinson stood there behind the gate, eyes wide with fear, darting back and forth and the whistle between her lips, small sounds emitting when she gasped in her nervous state. Scotlynn stood next to her, trying to pull her hand away from the pudgy woman's iron grip. 

As soon as the last bus drove away a loud sigh came out from the whistle, scaring the poor woman. Scotlynn pretended not to hear and continued to struggle. "Alright, come on, dear. Off to bed with you."

"I'm not tired," Scotlynn lied again, knowing good and well she needed more sleep. Miss Atkinson didn't buy it.

"That's what you said yesterday and you got in a pinch of trouble, didn't you?" Scotlynn didn't answer, and didn't bother picking up her feet as she was led through the doors and down the hallway to the stairs. "I'm not going to carry you, Scotlynn, so you might as well pick up your feet."

"I'm hungry," Scotlynn said suddenly. 

"I'll have a hot breakfast waiting for you when you wake up."

"No, I'm hungry now." Miss Atkinson looked behind her to see Scotlynn stopped in her place, standing at a dangerous angle to the woman in front of her. If her hand should slip she would hit the ground, giving the girl an even worse attitude than she had this minute. If her way wasn't met, and food wasn't given, Scotlynn would surely pull her hand as hard as she could from the woman's grip. 

"Well then you'll have to wait a few minutes as the cooks have already started cleaning the other dishes," Miss Atkinson said changing her direction with a slight tug on the girl. Scotlynn followed, picking her feet up this time. 

Old Shana nearly hit the two on her way out the door of the mess hall, carrying a box of garbage. "Morning, Mabel. Just takin' the trash out." Miss Atkinson smiled back, always happy to chat with the staff. "Have the girls all left?"

"Just a few minutes ago, I'm taking this one in to get some breakfast, and then it's off to bed." Scotlynn didn't like the look Miss A. gave her as she said these words. Old Shana gave the little girl a toothy smile.

"Bring her in, we can make a little something before heading off. Come this way, Roxanne."

Scotlynn didn't bother to correct her this time, nor had she the time as her presence was suddenly in a different room. 

"Sit down then, we'll have some pancakes out for you soon."

"I want French toast." Miss Atkinson held Scotlynn's arms to her sides as she kicked her feet over the edge of the chair.

"Now now," she reprimanded. "That's not good manners."

"Mabel's right, dear." Old Shana set the box down on the table with a heavy grunt. "It's not every day we take a little one aside for some special treatment. Say thank you."

Old Shana didn't hear Scotlynn's mumble of a thank you as she picked the box up again with a sharp inhale, and leave the mess hall. Miss Atkinson took a chair next to Scotlynn, much to the little girl's dismay. She could never sneak off under such watchful eyes. Her large backside didn't seem to fit in the chair very well, and she shifted around every few minutes attempting to attain some level of comfort. The door to the kitchen swung open, catching their attention. The same woman who gave out the meal yesterday morning delivered the meal of this one, and with a great hurry too. 

"It's freezing in there," she said setting the plate of pancakes down. "Fall has scarcely begun and the snow is already falling into the food."

"The earliest snowfall we've had in years," Miss Atkinson agreed, taking a napkin and tucking it into Scotlynn's pajama collar. Butter had already dribbled down her chin. "I'm sure the girls would love to play in it but with school and...well, I won't waste your time describing the incident." She eyed the little girl sitting next to her and twiddled her thumbs, her backside getting sore. "I'm sure you know all about it, I'll bore you with details."

"Details enliven a story," the young woman replied, leaning on the table with her hands folded. "Of course, with present company..." She too had noticed the youngest member and thought best not to divulge anything. 

"What incident?" Scotlynn asked with her mouth perfectly full.

"I shouldn't have brought it up," Miss Atkinson said. "But...Scotlynn, do you know why Mrs. Vitello brought you inside yesterday?" Scotlynn didn't answer. "There's been some activity-"

"Suspicious activity," the young cook stepped in. Miss Atkinson nodded.

"Yes, suspicious activity around the orphanage. We just want you girls to be safe, and that means no going outside without an adult. Understand?"

Scotlynn nodded and dropped a piece of pancake on the floor. No one noticed. 

"Alright, Mabel, you can take your post again, I'll look after little Roxanne for now," Old Shana said returning to the kitchen. Her hair was covered in fresh snowflakes. With a bit of a struggle, Miss Atkinson stood from the chair, nearly knocking it over before hobbling out of the mess hall to her desk. Scotlynn laughed but held her tongue when her hair was tussled in parting. The room was quiet save for the echoing of Miss Atkinson' heels hitting the floor. Scotlynn swung her feet back and forth, taking her time finishing her food. The young woman had returned to the kitchen and Old Shana stood there, looking lost in thought. Her grimace turned to a smile as she caught Scotlynn staring at her. "Good to see you again, Roxanne, I almost thought you weren't coming today."

"It's Scotlynn," Scotlynn said. 

"Tell me, Roxanne, do you get along with the other girls?" 

She shrugged.

"I know you had a slight brawl with a little blonde girl. Or, was she a brunette?" Scotlynn didn't correct her. Shaking her head, Old Shana continued. "Well aside from that fight, have you any friends here?"

Scotlynn wanted to say Bon, without any hesitation. But she wondered if he considered her a friend. If he didn't, then her words were foolish. If he did, then she couldn't understand what was taking him so long to visit her again. The name alone might arouse some questions from the all female staff as well, and Scotlynn didn't answer at all. 

"I know none of them are your age, is that right? Oh of course, that's why they're all in school or still in nappies. You know, my niece was in nappies until she was six, and boy, that's some change to go through especially with a girl just starting school. Or...was she five?"

Scotlynn sighed. If breakfast would be this boring and uneventful every day she wouldn't mind skipping it and immediately looking for her acquaintance. The presence of so many grown ups was far too hindering. 

"Let me take that for you, Roxanne," Old Shana said grabbing the crumb laden plate. 

"It's Scotlynn!"

"What was that dear?" The old woman turned around and leaned closer to the little girl, holding a hand to her ear. Scotlynn, sick of repeating her correct name, almost didn't answer. But then...if she wanted she could...maybe...this was her chance...

"Eloise."

"What's that?"

"My name..." Scotlynn sighed, hoping this idea of hers wouldn't land her into trouble. "is Eloise."

"Eloise...Eloise, oh, Eloise!" The old woman put a smile on her face and a hand to her cheek. "My gracious, have I been calling you by the wrong name this entire time? Oh I'm so sorry, Why didn't you say anything?" Scotlynn opened her mouth to answer. "My goodness, I do apologize. Eloise, I'll have to remember that name. Eloise...Eloise..." 

Old Shana left the table and walked into the kitchen, taking the plate with her. 

And leaving Scotlynn behind.


	10. Chapter Ten

After getting caught by Miss Atkinson and getting sent straight to bed, Scotlynn woke up Friday evening sick as a dog, not bothering to join the girls for dinner. Saturday she was worse, her forehead burning to the point of misery, and breathing solely through her mouth. By Sunday her fever had broken, and by Monday she was at least able to get out of bed.

But she didn't. 

She slept in. Or, at least tried to even with all the noise the older girls made as they got ready to leave for another week of school. She heard her bedroom door open, and the clacking of Miss Atkinson's heels as she peered her head in, checking on the poor girl. Satisfied, she closed the door and left Scotlynn to sleep.

Or, to try returning to it.

When she did fall asleep, it was dreamless and quick. She was up again before she knew it, her stomach roaring with hunger. Knowing it was too late to ask for breakfast and knowing good and well she'd only get plenty of boring verses about family members in nappies to eat instead, she stayed in bed, watching through her window every so often. 

Nothing suspicious did she see, but an old tom cat wandering the streets like some scruffy vagabond. She secretly named him Bon, hoping the mere thought of him would bring him into existence, bring her a friend to talk to, and someone to adopt her out of this lonesome building. 

Someone to take her to the moon.

Her nose began running. While searching for a tissue she tripped over a clutter on the floor. Scotlynn wasn't hurt, but the object piqued her interest more than looking for something to clean her face with. Her sleeve would do. The object that tripped her was none other than the telephone she had crafted out of two cans and a string. It had been a while since she used it, and a great affection for it took place in her heart, like a child who has just found their long lost teddy bear. One can was held to her mouth and she placed the other one next to her ear. Her voice was louder, but muffled and it echoed unpleasantly. Scotlynn thought she sounded stupid. Eloise would never have sounded so childish. 

She set it down and took to her window again. Her attention immediately veered to the tree, across the gate surrounding the yard. There, hands hidden in the pockets of a black leather jacket, was a man. A man with more hair on his head than Scotlynn had ever seen on any of the girls there. A man with brown shoes, jeans, and a white scarf draped around his neck. The man Scotlynn had been dying to see. 

She pulled on the handle of her window, but it wouldn't budge. Finally seeing a switch nearby she pulled it, and felt the hinge unlock. The window opened with a slight struggle, not having been used since the fifties. When it was open wide enough, she called his name. 

"Bon!"

At first he didn't hear her. Or pretended not to, which Scotlynn thought would be a very cruel joke. Didn't he miss her as much as she missed him? The sound of the wind threw her voice away from him, the falling snow obstructing proper vision. 

"Bon Scott!"

He heard her that time. With a look through the fence and a glance across the street behind him, he walked the distance from the tree to the orphanage building, and stopped just below Scotlynn's window. 

Now that he was there, she couldn't speak. He looked up at her, shaking his head of the snow falling into his hair. She smiled only when he smiled. "Hey, it's you again, eh?"

She nodded.

"What are you doin' up there?" His voice was muffled by the wind, Scotlynn thankful that snow obtained a sound of silence, unlike English rain. "Where is everyone?"

"They're in school," she called back, careful not to lean too far out the window. There was a small fire escape a few feet over, but nothing below her window with which to catch her. Except Bon. 

"You waggin'?" he called to her. She shrugged. He stepped closer, grabbing a bar from the fire escape railing. "You skip?"

"No, I'm too young."

"Too young? You lucky little Scottie dog, you get to stay behind in this weather?" He grinned at her, showing her all his white teeth. Scotlynn had yet to lose any of hers. "I'd go to school but..." He shrugged. "I'm too old."

"How old are you?"

"Well now, that's not a question I think I want to answer," he joked. "I'll have to shout it an' then the whole world will hear it, ya' know?"

"I'm four."

"So you've told me," he said. "So if everyone's at school, you just get the whole place to yourself?"

"The babies are still here," Scotlynn answered. Bon's face fell, something Scotlynn never got around to asking him about. She shifted her weight on her knees on the bookshelf and slipped a little.

"Careful," Bon said taking note of her dangerous actions. "Here, you'd better close the window before you fall, it's a long way down."

"Where have you been?" Scotlynn asked ignoring him. Bon kicked the snow under his foot and wrapped his arms around himself, his breath clearly visible. 

"I've been at work," he answered. "Gotta work to make money, ya' know?"

"With your friends?"

"...Yeah, me an' all my mates, we worked our asses off. Oh," he said, covering his mouth with his gloved hand. "Whoops, sorry. Didn't mean to say that, you didn't hear that."

Scotlynn didn't dwell on it. Her nose was starting to run again. "Where are your friends?"

"Around," Bon smiled. "They're all stayin' nearby at a motel, but they're all so small, 'bout this big, ya' know?" He held two fingers without much distance between them. "An' they never stay in one place, so I'm always lookin' for 'em, or steppin' on 'em, ya' know. They're around." Scotlynn watched him pace below her window. 

"Was that your friend you were walking with?"

"Me? Around here?" Scotlynn nodded. Bon rubbed his chin with his leather glove, and turned around to look at the sidewalk on the other side of the gate. "Yeah, I suppose that was us-him," he answered. "You saw us?"

"Who was he?" Bon smiled.

"Aw, that's just Angus," he said. "Mal gave us money to get out of his motel room for a drink. Guess we were buggin' him a bit, eh?" Scotlynn wiped her nose off on her sleeve again, the cold blowing in through the window. "Like I said, you wanna close that window before you catch a cold or somethin'."

"I already did," Scotlynn grumbled. 

"You're sick? Ew, don't sneeze on me or nothin'." He pointed at her and took a step back. "Angus' nose is always runnin' too, he's a real slob."

"Can I meet him?"

"Meet Angus?" Bon stuck his tongue in his cheek and frowned. "This ain't exactly a bar or a coffee shop, Scottie dog. I shouldn't be here probably, ya' know?"

"Will I ever get to meet him?" Bon shrugged, shaking his head of the new collection of snow in his hair. He reminded Scotlynn of a little dog himself. The door behind her opened without warning and Scotlynn ran from the window into her bed, pulling the covers over her. 

"No wonder you've got yourself sick," Miss Atkinson said hobbling in the room, stepping over the clutter. "You've got your window wide open." As the woman approached the window, Scotlynn held her breath. Bon was right, he wasn't supposed to be there. Miss Atkinson reached for the handle and pulled it shut, disturbing her back in the process. "There," she said locking it. "We'll keep that closed for now. We can open it again in the summer if you want. Here's your lunch, sweetie." 

A tray was placed on Scotlynn's bed and Miss Atkinson left the room, taking one more disgruntled look at the floor. As soon as the door closed, Scotlynn pushed the covers off and ran to the window. Bon was gone, hidden from view of the woman who would not like a man like him around her facility. She caught his footprints heading under the fire escape then lead over to the gate. Bon was walking toward the tree, then the sidewalk, then the street. Scotlynn tried frantically to open the window, forgetting it was locked. Even after pulling the switch she couldn't lift it up. It was as if all the strength had left her from the flu, and her fingers were numb with cold. In a matter of minutes, Bon was gone. 

Scotlynn looked over at the tray of food she pushed aside and saw a small cup of soup. She hoped it was hot, and that Miss Atkinson didn't get hungry on the way up.


	11. Chapter Eleven

By Wednesday Scotlynn was out of bed and dressed just like every other girl in the building. With the exception of staying there rather than face the snowy storm on the way to school. Bon hadn't been to visit her again since she was ill, and she wasted no more time getting ready to find him again. 

No more suspicious activity had been recorded since the week before either, and for that the staff was grateful. While still watching the girls like hawks, the strictness levels had been brought back down to Earth, actual smiles appearing on their faces once in a while. Aside from her meals brought up to her room and her nightly baths, Scotlynn hadn't seen much of the ladies recently. With all the clutter from homework assignments thrown about, signatures needed from Miss Atkinson, and phone calls about childish behavior in the classrooms, there hadn't been time to look after every movement Scotlynn made. She made it to the mess hall without anyone seeing her, or needing to sneak around. She even reached the door to the yard, opening it a crack before closing it again. Even she knew it was too cold outside. 

Bon wouldn't be there today. 

Instead she found herself in the nursery, sitting on the knit rug like she used to, looking at the picture books like she used to, watching the fish swim in their tank like she used to. Her old guardian, Miss Nancy bottled a baby in one arm while managing the book shelf with the other. Someone was crying, while a toddler held a broken toy in her hand, throwing it to the ground and looking for something else to play with. Picking up the broken toy while holding the little girl as tight as she could, Miss Nancy watched Scotlynn pucker her lips at the fish, silently imitating them. Scotlynn knew not to tap on the glass, something the other children always got reprimanded for. With the baby half asleep and the toy set aside for repair, Miss Nancy knelt down to Scotlynn's level and watched the fish with her. 

"Do you see Luna?" Miss Nancy asked. Luna was the name given to the silvery white fish, Scotlynn's favorite. In the back of the tank, surrounded by fish of gold, was her. Scotlynn wordlessly pointed. "There she is. I'd better feed them, huh?"

Scotlynn didn't answer. 

"It's good to see you back here again, Scotlynn," Miss Nancy said standing up to feed the fish. "Been rather lonely without someone who knows how to talk." 

Luna swam away from the goldfish and weaved around the fake plants. After bobbing to the surface for a gulp of air, she met with the front of the tank. Her eyes darted around, seeming to look at Scotlynn. Her fins rotated like windmills, her mouth puckering up. 

"She knows you," Miss Nancy said, setting the bottle down and placing a cloth on her shoulder. "She remembers you."

Scotlynn was lost in her own world of fish and dolphins, whales and sharks. Scales glittering like diamonds as the sun hit the water, hitting her face as she came up for air like Luna did in her tank. She hardly noticed when the door to the nursery opened, and in walked Miss Atkinson. 

A second cry took Scotlynn's attention away from the tank. In Miss Atkinson's arms was a little bundle, wrapped in a pale yellow blanket. Miss Nancy finished burping the child in her arms and placed her in a nearby crib, pulling the safety bars up. "Hello, Nancy, we've just got another one today," Miss Atkinson cooed.

"Let me see, oh she's darling!" Miss Nancy took the crying baby in her arms and gently bounced her. "And what might your name be?"

"Her name is Millie," Miss Atkinson answered for her. "Brought in by a relative who took her after her parents died. Living on loans as it is, she had to send her to us." Millie's crying quieted, but stirred some of the other children in the room. A few toddlers became curious of the new sound and made way to inspect under the grown ups' feet. Scotlynn wondered if she had cried this much when she arrived. 

"Oh, Millie, you must be hungry. The relative just leave her here?"

"After giving me some papers and signing some in return. I could tell she felt bad, didn't want to drop her off here but..." Miss Atkinson gave Millie a kiss on the head before waddling around the curious two year olds to the door. "Let's hope this place doesn't shut down then. She's got somewhere to go, but even then, she can't afford her."

"We can," Miss Nancy said following the pudgy woman to the door. "We can pay for her, and we're not shutting down. If they can't control one man who won't mind his own business, then they can't take control over a whole orphanage."

"Let's hope. Bye, everyone!" Miss Atkison waved goodbye to the children who in turn gave her puzzled looks and went back to their toys. The door closed, shoes echoing down the hall to the stairs, and Millie left in the care of the nursery to live in and grow. Miss Nancy knelt down to Scotlynn again.

"We have a new girl, Scotlynn, her name is Millie. See?" Scotlynn saw. She was pink and her face was scrunched up. She couldn't have been a year old. The bundle was placed in her arms, each one adjusted to give the baby full support before being sat in a nearby rocking chair. "I'm going to make her a bottle, okay? I need your help looking after her. Can you do that?" Scotlynn only nodded. Left to watch over the new girl, a few others wanted to see her too. Her hair was thin and yellow. Her eyes were blue, still susceptible to change when she got older. Scotlynn was afraid she'd get lost in the snow outside her skin was so pale. Scotlynn looked at her own skin. Living in London, it wasn't much better. 

A finger reached up and poked Millie's nose. She moved her head, not appreciating the foreign touch. The same finger tapped her nose with frequency, disturbing Millie further. She began to cry, much to Scotlynn's annoyance. "Stop that!" she yelled, pushing the hand away. Ignoring Scotlynn's request, the rebellious toddler continued to touch, poke, and grab Millie's face. "Go away! Stop!" 

Scotlynn couldn't help herself. At least, she didn't try to. The toddler hit the ground rather hard, immediately beginning to cry just as Millie's had stopped. Miss Nancy turned her head. "Oh!" Setting the bottle down to cool, she hurried to the injured child and looked her over. "It's alright, you're not hurt too bad. Shh...you're fine. Scotlynn?" She didn't answer, knowing good and well how much trouble she was in. "You never push anyone, do you hear me? You could have really hurt her. Scotlynn, look at me."

Scotlynn slowly lifted her head from Millie's gaze. 

"Get up from the chair and sit Millie next to me." She did as she was told. Millie was gripped tighter while the chair rocked, then let go once safe on the floor. "You need to apologize to Sophie," Miss Nancy said sternly. Scotlynn brushed her black buckled shoe against the carpet. "Now," Miss Nancy said. 

"Sorry," Scotlynn said. It was no more than a mumble. 

"Thank you." Before any of the other children could block her way, she ran to the door and out of the nursery, her locket jangling in her pocket; leaving Miss Nancy, a crying Sophie, Millie, and Luna behind her. 

Scotlynn wiped away a few tears herself. 

 

Later that evening, Scotlynn sat alone at the table, her fork drawing endless circles in her mashed potatoes. The girls were back from school, all eagerly shoving food down their mouths and down other's shirts. The older ones sat apart, gossiping about the newest boy at the high school. All of them were still in their uniforms, a sea of identical children. Only one, Jimmie Bean swinging a yo-yo from her finger, which she had gotten for a deck of twenty four cards, had pinned several little novelty badges on her shirt, leaving hardly any white spaces left. Mrs. Valerie always had a time washing it. The chair wobbled as she plopped herself down next to Scotlynn, wiping the dirt off her hands awfully close to Scotlynn's dinner plate.

"Sure beats playin' hours of solitaire," Jimmie said setting her yo-yo on the table. A plate had been saved for her earlier, and she wasted no time grabbing a fork and taking a bite bigger than what could fit in her mouth. "What about you, eh?" she asked, potatoes falling on her lap. "What are you always up to?"

"What do you think Bon's doing right now?" Scotlynn asked, her potatoes losing steam.

Jimmie nearly choked. "I'm not askin' ya' what Bon's doin', I'm askin' what you're doin'!" She took another bite, this one a touch smaller. "You haven't been talkin' to him lately, have you?"

Scotlynn shook her head. "He hasn't been around much."

"Good. You know what Miss A. would do if she saw him." Jimmie looked around at all the talking girls, and upon seeing none of them paying the two any mind, she lowered her voice. "There's been talk, ya' know. 'Bout some stranger man around this place. You know, lookin' for little girls to make disappear."

"Miss Atkinson said not to worry about it," Scotlynn argued.

"Of course she's gonna say that, she doesn't want all the girls scared!" Scotlynn forced down a bite of potatoes just so she didn't have to answer. "If what she says is true, she might send us all away!"

That's just what Scotlynn had been hearing on the phone. Where would they all go? What about the babies, what about Millie? No one could afford to take her anyway, she'd be helpless. Scotlynn could be lucky enough to find Bon and live with him, but she couldn't say the same for the other girls. Quickly she shook the thought from her mind. 

"Course I'd go live with my nanny up in Edinburgh," Jimmie went on. "She's got a small farm up there. Lots of goats an' cows, an' things like that."

"Why didn't you go there first?" Scotlynn asked.

"I would have, but my nanny already has a lot of kids up there," Jimmie said. "Not enough room for me." Jimmie chewed her potatoes and put her chin on her hand. "But they got room for all them stinkin' animals."

Scotlynn put her fork down. Her appetite had never been there, and now the potatoes only made her sick. Jimmie couldn't help but notice the lack of activity on her plate. "You gonna eat those, kid?"

Scotlynn pushed her plate away. 

"What about you, huh?" Jimmie asked. 

"What about me?"

"You don't got anywhere to go, do ya'?" The look on the four year old's face said it all. Jimmie stopped chewing. "Don't even think about it. You only met that man, you don't know where he lives, or what he's capable of!"

"I know enough, Bon wouldn't ever hurt me."

"He's a stranger, kid, and a man! You know why men don't work here?" Scotlynn shook her head. "Well, to be honest I don't know either. But there's gotta be a reason. Else we'd see them all the time. Of course, there are a few men who work at the schools, but they're not tied to the orphanage, they can do whatever they want."

"Bon won't ever hurt me," Scotlynn insisted. "He's a friendly man, he's not one of the bad ones."

"If you ask me, I wouldn't ever take a bite of a hundred apples jus' to find one good one in a batch of worms." Neither one spoke for a minute. "Don't ask me, I don't know what I said either."

"Please don't tell anyone," Scotlynn said, giving Jimmie a pleading look. 

"Tell anyone what?"

"About Bon."

"Will you stop sayin' his name? Kids are gonna get suspicious." Jimmie leaned in and lowered her voice even more. Scotlynn could see the badges on her shirt clearly now, one of them for the American elections. "Look, I'll keep my mouth shut for ya', I won't tell anyone about him. You don't even have to get me a battery. But you've gotta stop seein' this man. He could hurt you, he could hurt us! He could be usin' you to get to us, you ever think of that?"

Scotlynn hadn't thought of any of that. And for good reason. Bon never gave any impression of meaning any harm. Perhaps she'd ask him next time she saw him. If she saw him. 

"He hasn't been around to talk to anyway," Scotlynn said laying her head on the table. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Good. Now...you gonna eat your bean sprouts?"

Something cold poured over Scotlynn's head. She could feel it coat her shirt and run down her back, sending a chill down her spine. Water dripped in her eyes from her hair, landing on the table in little drops. Turning around, the two girls saw another girl with orange hair, and a white bandage over a yellow bruise on her nose. "That's what nits like you get," she taunted. "For what you did to me."

"Listen, Tabby, it was an accident," Jimmie said, remembering exactly what happened that day. Everyone in the building heard about a four year old hurting a girl a bit older, and marveling at her strength. Without condoning it of course. Scotlynn did her best to keep to herself during dinner but she couldn't help but catch the dirty glances of Tabby, the orange haired girl. "The kid didn't mean to break your nose."

"Then I didn't mean to spill my water," Tabby said taking a step back. Her glass "slipped" from her hand and hit Scotlynn hard on the head. "And I didn't mean to throw my cup."

Scotlynn's eyes burned, her head felt hot. She could see some attention from the other girls had been aroused, a few standing up in their spots to see what happened. With Old Shana in the kitchen and Miss Atkinson at the front desk, Scotlynn stood from her seat and lunged at Tabby. 

Screams echoed, fists collided with noses again and other areas of the face, and jeers came from the table. A good amount of hair on Tabby's head was pulled, a few orange strands littering the floor. Teeth sunk into an arm, and from the seats at the back of the table it was difficult to tell which arm, or whose. Jimmie would have broken it up, but she was too excited to be this close to witness it that she forgot to try. 

The commotion in the mess hall brought in a stampede of staff members, a red faced Miss Atkinson hobbling behind them. Old Shana came out from the kitchen just in time to see Miss Atkinson fall as she attempted to separate the scuffle. She threw the pot in her hand against the wall, the sound scaring everybody in the room. All eyes turned to her, the two girls picked up off the floor. 

"That. Is enough," Old Shana said, stepping over the pot rattling on the floor. Towering over the girls, both of them shaking with fear and anger, Old Shana placed her hands on her hips. Her wrinkled face just earned a few more from the frown she gave them. "I don't know what on Earth has possessed you two to kill each other over spilt milk, but this is not acceptable here. Do you understand me?"

The two girls nodded without making any eye contact. 

"Now both of you back to your rooms, dinner is over. If you're gonna wear it rather than eat it, then you're gonna sleep instead of eat." Miss Atkinson grabbed Scotlynn by the arm and pulled her toward the door, leaving Tabby to take herself to her room. 

"Come on, Scotlynn, come with me." Her voice was not at all pleasant. 

 

Her feet hurt after climbing, rather running after Miss Atkinson up those stairs. Miss A. herself was panting by the time she reached room seven. The door slammed open and Scotlynn was taken to the bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. "To bed with you, Scotlynn. Now."

"She started it!" Scotlynn said, her hair still damp. 

"It doesn't matter who started it, you're both in trouble for it. Now go to sleep."

"But my hair is wet!" Miss Atkinson didn't answer. "It doesn't feel good on my pillow."

"Then dry it off, Scotlynn!" The little girl pulled the covers over her face. Miss Atkinson stood in the doorway and sighed. "Honestly, I expected better from you. It'd be easier if you were older, and you were in school, but we've got to keep our eyes on you. Now we have to keep our eyes on you at dinner? Because you can't control yourself?" Scotlynn felt her eyes burning again. "Go to sleep, Scotlynn, and give us all a break."

The door slammed shut, Miss Atkinson's loud heels leaving for the stairs. Scotlynn pulled the blankets over her head and let the tears spill out. Her room was dark and the hallway empty, no one around to barge in on her moment of humiliation. Nothing she did seemed to be the right thing to do. In defending herself, she got sent to her room early. In defending someone else, she hurt a young toddler. And got yelled at both times. She had enough. If Miss Atkinson wanted a break, and if none of the other girls wanted her around, fine. 

Bon would want her.

She left her bed, the covers and sheets askew, and opened her closet. All of her clothes were taken off the hanger and placed on the floor in a big pile. Every girl had been given a suitcase should they ever need something to pack their clothes in when they were adopted. Scotlynn's had been placed in the corner of the closet. It was white with peeling butterfly stickers on it. She pulled it out, and set it down, open on the floor. Her clothes were shoved inside, and the suitcase was zipped shut. 

Putting on her shoes was difficult. Her hands shook too much to buckle the straps properly. She buttoned her coat, feeling the locket in the right pocket. It felt like fish scales. 

There were no fish where she was, but perhaps there would be fish where she was going. 

She stood her suitcase up, and pulled the handle just long enough for her little hand to grasp properly. She paused when she saw her telephone made of cans on the floor. It took her too long to make them to leave them behind, and her clothes were moved aside to make room. Glancing at her bookcase, she saw her Eloise books lined up. Only one would fit, so she had to make it count. Her hand grasped Eloise in Paris, another place Scotlynn wanted to visit more than anything. 

Except the moon, of course. 

Rolling her bag behind her and feeling the locket for the hundredth time that evening, she opened her bedroom door, and left. No one to the left of her, and no one to the right, she wheeled her belongings down the hall to the stairs. She pushed the handle down and grabbed the sides of the suitcase, taking one step at a time. It was heavy, and almost knocked her backwards down the flight. To her fortune the other girls were eating in the mess hall and wouldn't catch her. To her misfortune, Miss Atkinson lived on the first floor and would send her right back to bed if she caught her, perhaps force her to eat left over chicken feathers from the school cafeteria. 

Scotlynn tiptoed past the nursery, all crying ceased as the babies were either feeding or asleep. Standing on her toes, she could see through the little window. Miss Nancy was holding Millie, a big smile on her face. Almost all the cribs were occupied, only one baby was awake. Without her to hurt any of the kids and cause trouble, it was perfect. Miss Nancy was happy. 

Scotlynn was okay with that. 

The second set of stairs was easier. In case any of the babies needed to be taken up and down, they were less steep and not as numerous. Her suitcase didn't get any lighter, however, and she almost dropped it. 

As she stepped off the last stair into the front lobby, she peered around the corner. Miss Atkinson wasn't at her desk for once in her life. Loud talking could be heard in the mess hall, Scotlynn's appetite returning. She held her stomach, hoping to drown out the noise. Rolling her suitcase to the front door, thinking this mission was much too easy, she gave one last look at the mess hall door. Miss Atkinson's voice was right on the other side. Quickly she opened the front door, and slipped through, getting out of sight just in time.

She never imagined how cold it would be outside. Her wet hair made it all the worse. Snow piled up on the sidewalk, still falling. She pulled her suitcase behind her through the snow with difficulty, heaving and panting the whole way. The locket was still in her pocket, her eyes still wet with tears. 

Streetlights gave her a slight idea where she was, but no idea where to go. This was the first time she ever set foot outside the orphanage on her own, and she hoped it would be the only time. If they went looking for her, she'd run to Paris. 

This was of course, before she learned proper geography. 

Through the dimly lit glow of the lamps she saw the corner. The corner where the buses took the kids to school, the corner where Maude turned to go to her new home. The corner she so long desired to turn herself, and see what was around it. Now that she was here, she was nervous. Her heart beat faster, her hands starting to sweat. Taking a deep breath, she clutched her suitcase, felt for her locket, and looked both ways before crossing the street to the corner. 

Around it was nothing more than some buildings, streets, and more lamps. Trees, a bit of garbage, and an old, fat rat running to hide behind a trash can. A sort of disappointment replaced the fear, and she felt rather cold again. Her braids blew behind her, her cheeks like ice. Snow dotted her hair like sprinkles. Street after street she crossed, getting as much distance between her and that orphanage as she could. She could hear the cans knock against each other in her suitcase every time a wheel rolled over a rock. 

Coming upon a park, she stopped to take a seat on a nearby bench. It was covered in a thin sheet of snow, and her bare hand brushed it off, freezing it instantly. Her luggage was growing heavier by the minute. She sat down and wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. Her nose ran, her feet ached, her hands shook. She swung her feet back and forth on the bench, wondering if maybe this wasn't such a good idea. No one had any idea where she was, and frankly, neither did she. She hadn't bothered to leave them a note. They'd never find it anyway. 

And, well, she couldn't read or write just yet. 

She hugged herself, hiding her hands in her pockets. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a dark shadow. It wasn't a big shadow by any means, but on a cold and dark night it was something to keep an eye on. It wouldn't move. No matter how hard she stared at it, it wouldn't move. Looking away for one second, it left its spot and vanished behind her. She grabbed her locket and played around with it, making sure the feeling stayed in her hands. The shadow was gone, the only thing left was a red streetcar, driving by on the street in front of her, turning another corner. 

She gasped when a gloved hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her around.


	12. Chapter Twelve

"Scotlynn?" Scotlynn was frozen to the bench with fear. A man stood behind her, a look of concern on his face, hidden by his long brown hair. "Scottie dog, is that you?"

Bon's leather jacket was covered with snow, his hair the same way. He wore brown gloves, taking them out of his pocket to check if the girl on the bench was who he thought. He wasn't sure if he should be happy to see her or not. 

Scotlynn scooted away from him, Bon taking it as an invitation to sit next to her. Tears spilled out of her eyes and she rubbed them away, worried they'd freeze on her cheeks. Bon kept his distance seeing her hesitance and fear, and folded his hands on his lap. "What are you doin' out here?"

She had to think fast. Telling him she ran away would get her sent right back there again. "They kicked me out." His eyes widened.

"They kicked you out?" he asked. She sat silent a moment then nodded. "Whatever for?" She shrugged. "Well they can't have kicked you out for no reason."

"They didn't want me anymore," Scotlynn said shaking her head. Her whole body shook actually, as the wind started to pick up. 

"Didn't want you..." Bon mumbled. He stood from the bench and held his hand out for Scotlynn to take. "Come on, get your stuff."

"Why?"

"They can't kick you out for that, or for any reason," Bon said, grabbing hold of the suitcase himself. "Here, I'll take you back an' we can have a little talk with 'em."

"No!" Scotlynn grabbed the arm of the bench and held on. He wouldn't really send her back, would he? 

"Scottie dog, come on-"

"No!" Bon took the space next to her, letting go of her suitcase. The little girl turned away from him, hurt that he wanted to put her back. Couldn't he see what an awful place it was, how awful the kids were to her? At least, how awful Tabby was, and how unfair all the adults were after the fight. She really began to shiver now, when the snow fell faster, and heavier. Bon's face was difficult to make out through the dark, the snow, and her tears. 

"Scotlynn, you can't stay out here. You gotta go back, ya' know. An' they can't be kickin' kids out, that's doin' 'em no good. Not to mention against the law an' morally wrong," Bon said matter-of-factly. "C'mon, I'll take you back an' talk with 'em. C'mon."

Stubborn was Scotlynn's middle name it seemed.

"No," she whimpered. Bon could see he was getting nowhere with this kid. Didn't she realize she could die out here? Didn't the orphanage realize how stupid they were being by kicking little four year olds out in the snow? He narrowed his eyes wondering how much of Scotlynn's story was true. Although, this didn't seem to be the best time to ask. He nudged her shoulder, only getting a tongue stuck out at him as a reply. 

"Scotlynn..." He sighed. Bon noticed he had started to shiver himself. Neither one of them could think with a clear head. The sooner she got back to the orphanage the sooner she could warm up in her bed, and he in his. He might even get a kick out of telling them off. But the little girl wasn't moving. 

"Don't make me go back there," he heard her say. Her face was half covered by her coat so it was a little hard to hear. "Nobody wants me around, I just mess everything up!"

"Now Scottie dog, you know that's not true," Bon said, doing his best to reason with a four year old. 

"Yes it is, you weren't there!" Scotlynn's hair had gotten a little frizzy, some of it still wet. There wasn't that much snow falling to get it soaked.

"What happened to your hair?" he asked inspecting it. 

"Got water poured on me," Scotlynn answered truthfully. Bon frowned.

"Who did it?"

"The kids at the orphanage, they hate me!"

"Now listen, it only takes one kid to pour water on someone, not an entire orphanage." Scotlynn stuck her tongue out at him again. Bon pointed a finger at her. "Ya' know, it's really not polite to do that to someone, especially when that someone only wants to help you." Scotlynn didn't answer to that. 

"That same one-hit me," Scotlynn said, hoping to change Bon's mind. "After dumping water on me she threw her cup at me and hit me."

"Hit ya'," the man said, looking for any sign of a fight. He noticed some slight bruising on Scotlynn's left cheek, thinking it had been a bit of dirt. "What kind of place are they runnin'?" he asked himself. "Did you ask for help?"

"They wouldn't give me any, they just packed up my things and made me leave." Bon sat a while in thought. Knowing good and well she couldn't stay out there in the cold night, he was starting to rethink his plan to send her back. While that orphanage needed a good kick in the pants about what they do with the children, Scotlynn didn't seem to be in a safe place there. Kids get bullied, sure. But having to live with the bullies, and never feel like you belong isn't something anyone should have to go through. Bon remembered his days in school, where he was picked on for his name and accent. Of course his mother still made him go, but he could go home every evening and get away from it for a while. After kicking Scotlynn out, they might not be willing to argue, especially this late at night. In fact, Bon didn't really feel too much like arguing either. 

Scotlynn's nose was running quite a bit now. She put her coat sleeve to it, her face red with chill. A white scarf was gently wrapped around her neck, and a hand was held out to her. She turned around to see Bon holding her suitcase, tapping his fingers on the handle. "Come on, Scotlynn." She hid in her coat again. "I'm not gonna take you back, don't worry. At least, not tonight anyway, I'm too tired an' cold to bother. Come on." She looked at him from behind the scarf. "My place is a block away, I was jus' goin' home anyway. You can stay there a while until we find somethin' for you, alright?" 

Her little hand grabbed his larger gloved one and the two walked down the sidewalk and crossed a few streets to get to Bon's apartment. By the time they got there the snow had stopped falling, the wind now blowing it off the ground. Rolling the suitcase behind him, Bon was quite glad his room was on ground level. Taking his key out of his pocket he opened the door, letting Scotlynn step inside first.

She couldn't believe her luck. Breaking out of the orphanage with such ease only to find the one man she was looking for, and have him bring her to his house where she could stay forever. It was like a story book come to life. She rushed inside, forgetting to wipe her feet before coming in. The couch was brown and torn, a patch or two on the cushions. The table leaned, as did most of the chairs surrounding it. Scotlynn ran from the living room to the kitchen looking for any signs of Bon's friends, or even a fish tank. The apartment was empty save the two residents and the furniture. Bon set the suitcase beside the coffee table, looking up to see no little girl next to him. "Scottie dog?" he called, looking down the hall. "Where'd you run off to?"

He stumbled forward when something grabbed his leg, the little four year old wrapped around it. He lifted his foot and tried gently shaking her off. "C'mon, let go now."

"Where are your friends?" she asked, letting him go and running to check out the couch.

"They're at their hotel rooms right about now," Bon answered. "Unless they all went out drinkin' without me, in that case they can deal with the shitty weather. Oh, sorry 'bout that." Scotlynn didn't seem to hear the bad word. 

"Do you have any fish?"

"Fish? Uh, maybe a few fish sticks in the freezer. But I don't have any pets if that's what you mean. Some tend to make my nose run like, an' that's not pretty, ya' know." Scotlynn left the couch and went to the kitchen, looking through the fridge for any spare food Bon might not have wanted. "Have you-have you eaten?"

"No," she answered, pulling out a bottle of soda. She hadn't had one in years, the orphanage served water, milk, and juice. Her chubby fingers picked at the lid. Bon took to her side, taking the bottle and opening it for her, checking to make sure it really was soda and not beer.

"Here, let me." He handed it back and she grabbed it with both hands, sipping loudly. Bon stood up and opened the door to the fridge wider. "Ya' know, that's not really dinner," he said. Most food he bought for the week had begun to run low, his garbage bin full of fast food wrappings and Angus' candy wrappers. He'd take it out tomorrow before work, if he remembered. Work. Unless someone came to the apartment that night, he'd have to take her to the studio with him. The guys liked kids, sure. But having to babysit on top of all the songs they were recording, it'd drive them all mad. Bon finally found a not frozen anymore burrito in the back and pulled it out. "Here, you can have this if ya' want...Scotlynn?"

She wasn't at his side anymore. 

Scotlynn had taken her soda with her to the hallway, where she looked through each of the rooms. There were only two, one being a bathroom, the other what she assumed to be Bon's room. It was relatively clean, much to Scotlynn's surprise. A couple shoes were stacked in the corner and a pair of pants lay next to them, but other than that there was nothing out of place. On his dresser was a wooden frame, someone's picture in it. She couldn't reach it; she'd have to stand on her toes for now. "Scotlynn?" She barely heard Bon in the hallway. 

The woman was a blonde, that much she could see. But her face was none she recognized. Large letters in cursive were scribbled on the bottom right corner. As messy as the writing was she couldn't read it anyway. "What are you doin'?" Bon stood there with the burrito in his hand, wrapped in foil. Scotlynn didn't like the way his eyes were narrowed.

"Who's this?" She pointed at the picture. Bon picked it up and looked at the woman, a sort of smile appearing. Scotlynn liked his smile much better. A smile suited him. "Is that your girlfriend?" she asked, braver this time.

"My uh-" He cleared his throat. "My wife, actually."

"You're married?" Scotlynn didn't know what to think about that. Where was she? Did she like children? Would she mind another one living here?

"Well, now we're divorced." He set the picture frame back on the dresser, his hand lingering for a moment longer, then turning to leave the room. 

"What's divorced?" Scotlynn asked. He held his hand out to her. 

"It means we're not married anymore. Come on, now." She took his hand, holding on to her soda with the other, and followed him back to the kitchen. He pulled out a chair for her, taking her soda and setting it on the table, letting her climb on the chair with both hands. The now soggy burrito landed in a puddle on the plate, and Bon wiped his hands off. He stuck it in the microwave, now standing in silence, vulnerable to another question from his guest.

"What's her name?"

"Whose?"

"Your wife." Bon's smile came back, unwilling to hide behind his massive hair. 

"Irene," he said. The microwave beeped. The plate was hot, but the burrito wasn't. He put it back in.

"Why are you di-divor-divorced?" She never seemed to get tired of asking about Bon. Something about this man's life was fascinating to a curious four year old. Bon gave her a look, leaning against the counter. 

"I don't think you're old enough to hear that story, ya' know," he said, watching her drink her soda. The microwave beeped a second time, this time the burrito hot enough to eat. He set the plate in front of her, taking her soda aside. Bon forgot how messy children were, and laughed to himself when it dribbled on the table from her face. "Ya' want a napkin?" Scotlynn didn't answer and he gave her one anyway. She ate rather quickly, and Bon was worried about the meal quality at the orphanage. Did they feed their kids?

Scotlynn reached for her soda with open hands, both of them messy along with her face. "Wipe yourself off first," Bon said, withholding her drink. She cleaned up and Bon gave the half empty bottle to her. "Ya' know I'll have to call someone," he said, after her sipping was through. "Can't have ya' runnin' the streets in the dead of winter, ya' know."

"Call who?" Scotlynn didn't like what he was saying. 

"The police or someone," he said shrugging. "I have to let someone know where you are an' they can take care of ya'. Maybe they can straighten things out with that orphanage of yours an' they won't kick you out again."

"No!" Scotlynn regressed to a toddler and pushed her plate away, knocking the bottle of soda over. 

"Ah, Christ, Scotlynn," Bon said, standing up to grab a few more napkins. He wiped part of it up, throwing them away and again remembered to take the garbage out. The last few napkins he gave to Scotlynn, waiting for her to take them. "You can clean the rest of it up." She kicked her legs, both of them much too short to reach the floor. "I helped clean some, now you can clean the rest."

She took the napkins from him and wiped the soda from the table, her fingers getting sticky. "Thank you," Bon said. He took the napkins from her and threw them away as well, sighing when he saw Scotlynn continuing to pout. "I'm not callin' 'em right this minute, Scottie dog, but I'm jus' sayin' we need a plan for tomorrow, or after."

"I'm not going back."

"You're goin' wherever they say you're goin', wherever that might be."

"Why can't I stay with you?" Bon picked the bottle up from the table, giving an excuse not to look at her big puppy eyes. 

"I have work, Scotlynn," he said, rinsing the bottle out at the sink. "An' then we leave again, for a trip 'round Europe, an' the states, an' things like that."

"Why can't I come?"

"You think all that travellin' is good for ya'?" he asked. "We'd have to set you up with a passport an' get you situated, an' there's a lot more to this stuff than there looks." He felt bad seeing her chin drop down to her chest, her legs still kicking stubbornly. Whether she understood all that he said, he'd never know. But it no less pissed her off. "Ya' can stay the night, okay? After that I'll call someone an' if no one comes to get ya', you can come with me to work for awhile...the guys won't mind." Scotlynn lifted her head. "But that means behavin', yourself, alright? Mal an' Ang are trouble enough without another kid, an' I'm jus' as bad sometimes." Scotlynn didn't answer, afraid she might mess his plans up. "Hey, that alright?"

She finally nodded. 

"You can take my bed for now, it's all I've got." Scotlynn picked at her burrito, her nails rather filthy by now. "But you're takin' a bath first, alright?"

 

Wrapping the towel around her, he picked her up out of the bath and set her on the floor. He let the water drain, Scotlynn leaving the bathroom to head for Bon's room. The picture of Irene was still on the dresser, right where they left it. She searched other areas of his room this time, making sure not to miss a thing. Some clothes were hanging in his closet, his bed was made. She saw a large bottle on the nightstand filled with amber liquid. It didn't look at all like soda. She reached for it, turning it so she could see what it said. Of course, she still couldn't read it. 

Bon came up behind her, setting her clothes in a pile on the dresser, and rolling her suitcase to the edge of the bed. "We'll get your things washed soon, I'll have to take them to a laundromat in a few days, I got stuff to wash anyway...what are you doin'?" He took the bottle off the nightstand, seeing what was left.

"What is that?"

"Nothin' for you to worry about, this isn't for little kids."

"I'm not little," Scotlynn pouted, crossing her arms.

"Sorry, this ain't for squirts," he said, getting a laugh out of her reaction. "I couldn't sleep last night an' nearly froze my ass off. I mean, I was really cold." He drank the rest, taking the bottle with him back to the kitchen. "You can change in here, I've got some stuff to do."Bon closed the door after him leaving the girl alone to change. She dropped the towel and opened her suitcase, finding all her things tossed about inside. Her cans were dented and a few pages of her book were bent and torn. She found her pajamas and put them on, warming up instantly. She placed her towel on the dresser along with her clothes, suddenly remembering her locket in her coat pocket. She took it out before Bon could wash it, before she could lose it forever. Maybe Bon had a locket just like it, one with a photo of Irene in it. After all, he still had her photo on his dresser, didn't he? Taking her book with her to bed, she sat under the covers and opened it up, looking at the beautiful pictures.

 

Bon rinsed the whiskey bottle in the sink as well and set it on the counter with the soda. God knew how late it was and how much sleep he would not be getting that night. But...leaving Scotlynn to freeze in the snow was not an option. Mrs. Scott would be rather cross with him had she found out. 

Pacing back and forth by the phone didn't help his oncoming headache. Only made it worse. He set his leather jacket on the couch and sat down beside it, picking the phone up. He considered calling the police station and telling them what happened. They'd take better care of Scotlynn than he ever could. But he was tired and in no mood to spend hours taking care of things. He'd call them tomorrow. Right after he took the garbage out. Instead, he dialed a different number, leaning back on the couch while it rang. "Mal? You up?...Sorry, I-I know how late it is, Mal, I have a watch just like yours...Well, uh, it seems I'll be havin' some company with me at the studio tomorrow..." He sighed. "Yes, it's a girl...Uh huh...No, she's nothin' like 'em, you'll love her, Mal...Jus'-jus' wait till you see her...jus' lettin' you know...Okay...say hello to Ang for me...tell him to quit leavin' his fuckin' candy all over my place...goodnight as well, Oscar the Grouch." He hung up and stood from the couch, figuring Scotlynn had dressed herself by now. 

He knocked once, waiting a minute. "Scotlynn?" He opened the door slowly, waiting to be stopped or told otherwise. "You finished?" He saw her sleeping on the bed, her book sprawled out beside her. Her black hair was still wet, drying on his pillow. He took the book and placed it on the nightstand where the whiskey bottle had been. "Night, kid." He left, stepping over her belongings on the floor and closed his bedroom door. 

Taking a blanket from the closet, he stretched out on the couch, setting his jacket and gloves on the coffee table. Finally, he got some sleep.


End file.
